Misanthropical
by nebluus
Summary: Rewrite of Skeptical: Alfonse and Eduard are best friends living in Germany. When an experiment gone wrong brings in a new yet familiar face, it will be up to them to get their friend home...and not get killed in the process. DISCONTINUED
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Darlings. I am here. I am back. And this one will be better. This particular story of mine will follow that of the original, _Skeptical._ All of the same rules apply as they did before:**

**1.) No A.U. person's soul entering their counterpart's body nonsense. Meaning that two of the same people can be in the same dimension at a time. (But only a few. Or bad things will happen undoubtably.)**

**2.) Alter!Alfonse and Alter!Winry (known in this story as Heide (Hi-die) (formerly Emry)) are twins. And Alter!Edward is the only-child of the trio.**

**3.) Alter!Edward will be referred to as Eduard. So we don't get ol' Ed and his counterpart mixed up.**

**4.) Some of the main/suggested pairings: Ed/Winry, Roy/Riza, and (possibly/hinted) Al/Mei **

**Everything will basically be the same...Only written in a more profesional, less...spasmatic (or some other suiting adjective) sort of way.**

**Anywho, here is chapter one; enjoy.**

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><p>Chapter One: Enter the fair boy and his friend<p>

Two young men of about the age of seventeen were racing each other merrily through the streets of a less-than-well known town located not far from the capital Berlin. It was a smaller town; one that, even though it was located so close to some place so busy, was cozy and the people were well aquainted. They were a quiet bunch, knowing only peace (save for the radio broadcasts they heard about the possibility of yet another war), who wanted nothing more than to live their lives and not think about what sort of dangers the world had to offer. World War One had been a tiring affair, and they were all ready for a break and some peace.

The boys running through the small town's streets were quite the pair, both blonde-haired and fair skinned. One was tall in an awkward sort of way; he had yet to grow into his height all the way which caused him to look extremely thin. Which he was. He could almost be considered unhealthy, but a lifetime of pickiness about different foods would do that to a person. He had very fair, cornsilk hair that was cut short; his bangs only just brushing past his thin eyebrows, and eyes that reflected the country sky on a cloudless day: bright and as blue as can be.

The other was quite the contrast to his fair friend. He was on the shorter side (don't tell him though) with a thicker build. If he wasn't sprinting to his part-time job each day, he would stand a good chance of becoming much rounder than what was considered acceptable by most swooning girls. But he sprinted, and therefore was not. He had blonde hair as well, but instead of the light, whispy color of his friend, he had deep golden hair cropped short and a set of sharp amber eyes to match.

If the fair one represented the moon; calm, quiet, and maybe a bit cautious, then the other would undoubtabley represent the sun; firey, anxious, and only just held back. They were their own foils and best friends.

Currently they were heading to the part time job they had. The boys had to clean up after the mechanics working at a small factory located towards the outside of the town. Though the factory was a small one, it made anything from automobile parts to ammunition, one pilot airplanes and small rockets. One could say that it gave many of the townspeople jobs and was the a main source of income for the small town. It was one that was well known for its top-of-the-line products and good service.

The boy with golden hair and eyes ran slightly ahead of the other. He would turn back every now and again to jeer at the other boy for being slower despite his long legs or encourage him to keep up. The fair one would make a face that said he heard this every day and that he was not impressed by the over used taunts or the encouragment. The pair ran past a small flower and gift shop and waved at the owner, a pretty, green eyed young woman with light brown hair. The golden boy made a silly face at the fair one, who blushed and ducked his head. As they continued, they cut through traffic and recieved plenty of angery honks from drivers. A police officer wearing glasses gave a shout at them and they laughed. He sighed and wondered what his life would be like without the pair in his morning routine.

By the time they got to the factory, they were almost perfectly on time. Almost. They had missed the mark by only two minutes, which could be considered a fairly good record seeing that they had sprinted the whole way there. The boys quickly ran to a small locker room in the back of the factory to hang up their coats and grab the supplies they would need. The golden boy reached up to the top shelf of a small broom closet after grabbing a mop for each of them, trying to find the two sets of protective goggles they would need to wear in the welding room they were paid to tidy up. He stood on his tip-toes, shoes sqeaking at the strain, and felt around for the goggles. His friend tapped his shoulder patiently and reached up once his frustrated friend had stepped aside. He easily pulled the two pairs from the shelf. His friend had flailed round with his one free arm just enough to push the goggles too far back out of his reach. His face turned red and he snached the goggles angrily with a huff.

"Quit sulking. We've got a lot of work to do." the fair boy laughed. His friend snorted.

"Don't act so high and mighty. I've still got a chance to grow." the other snapped. "One of those medical books your parents keep lying around said that boys don't stop growing 'till their twenties in some cases."

"Eduard, the only reason they're lying around is because you pull them out." said the first. "My parents keep them on the shelving in the study. And the key words of your sentence there are 'in some cases'. I think you'd be at least a bit taller if you were one."

The golden one, now Eduard, rolled his eyes.

"You're just jealous because I've got more girls on my tail than you."

"Very mature thing for you to say." The first sighed. He really couldn't deny that though. The young ladies of the town absolutely loved his friend's rare and stunning eyes. Eduard smirked.

"Quit sulking. We've got a lot of work to do." he chirped. This earned him a good smack with the pole of a mop.

"Damn it all Alfonse, it was a joke." Eduard grumbled, rubbing the side of his head. Alfonse just laughed triumphantly.

"Serves you right. Now come on. We actually do have quite a bit of work ahead of us today." Eduard just nodded and followed him out of the locker room, a bucket and protective goggles in one hand, an old mop in the other.

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><p><strong>And so ends chapter one. <strong>

**This was just a bit of an introduction, with a better discription of the setting and the boys' relationship. Or something. Don't worry though, there will be less boring paragraphs and more action in the next few chapters.**

**If anyone has any ideas or critiques for me, please be my guest! I need both.**

**~Maddy**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Here I am with the new and improved chapter two.**

**Last chapter I forgot to tell you that Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. Haha.**

**It doesn't belong to me, internet. Just thought I'd let you know.**

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><p>Chapter Two: Enter the Lady with Ivory Box<p>

The factory, like any other day, was alive with activity. People were rushing about, trying to finish several different projects at once, many of which were not even on the same floor. There were four floor levels total; a basement, the ground level, and another two stories added onto that. A large room that took up part of the top three levels was used for the larger projects that the factory workers fashioned. This room was currently occupied by a great many workers. Though most were, what might one call them? Out-of-towners.

The factory was alive with, unlike most days, very unusual activity. Alfonse gazed quietly at some of the workers from out of town. They were from Berlin, he knew, but what exactly they were doing, he didn't. The largest room was blocked off; only the men from Berlin, as well as a rare few acceptions, were allowed in there.

Eduard let out a grumpy sigh. Unlike Alfonse, Eduard wanted nothing more than to go into the largest room to see what exactly it was that the Berliners were doing. Hushed whispers traveled about the factory on a daily basis. The factory's regular workers would murmurer rumors softly to one another as to what was behind the closed steal doors of the largest room. The rumors themselves were of the outlandish sort, making Alfonse skeptical and maybe just a bit disappointed. He didn't like the mysterious Berliners taking up factory space as much as the next guy, but at least he had the dignity to not spread silly rumors about it. Eduard on the other hand would listen and absorb the tales their co-workers spun like his life depended on it.

And that was exactly what he was doing when the leader of the Berliners, a shady group of cloaked men who called themselves the Thule Society, glided past them. She was a tall woman, and the only woman, who had white blonde hair and eyes comparable to Alfonse's. Her name was Dietlinde Eckhart.

Both boys gazed up at her; a blue gaze that was cautious and maybe even a bit worried and a golden gaze full of curiosity and excitement. She paused when she passed them. There was a certain glint in her eye that Alfonse wasn't sure if he liked or not. But she gave them a kind, almost excited smile.

"You two look a bit young to be working in a rocket factory." She said. They were the first words the boys had ever heard from her. One nodded shyly, the other shook his head vigorously back and forth.

"I suppose we are, ma'am." Alfonse said, softly.

"Not if you're cleaning." Eduard rolled his eyes and smirked. "When we're old enough we'll be the ones making rockets though!" Eckhart gave a grand smile and put a hand on either boy's shoulder.

"What d'you say about seeing what it is rocket scientists do boys?" she all but purred. "Today is a big day, and I'm feeling generous."

Eduard lit up. Alfonse perked up a bit as well, though he didn't do much to hide his uncertainty.

"Don't worry, you two will be well out of the way and will not actually take part; just watch." this she directed at Alfonse. He nodded slowly. What real harm would it do? He hated to admit it, but he was curious about the Thule Society's project too.

Eduard looked over at Alfonse excitedly and he didn't have the heart to decline. He nodded in agreement and let Lady Eckhart lead them behind the closed doors of the largest project room.

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><p>The circle on the floor was a massive one. It's intricate designs and patterns flowed about one another with the fluency and grace of haiku. Spidery letters were scrawled out around the inner patterns of the gargantuan circle. But as Alfonse read what words he could, he found that they made no sense at all. Their meaning was unknown to him and, he supposed, irrelevant. He glanced over at Eduard, who was beholding the grand pattern on the floor with awestruck eyes. Eduard turned to Eckhart.<p>

"What is it?" he asked, using a softer tone than he had before. "I've never seen anything like it..."

"This here, boy, is called an inter-dimensional transmutation circle." Eckhart stated with a matter of fact voice. She laughed at the blank stares she received like she completely expected them to not know what she was talking about.

"Basically it opens up a wormhole into another dimension and enables us to travel through it using an ancient science called alchemy." she explained. "Alchemy was thought to be a dead science, but if you pay the right price, turning lead into gold is nothing more than a parlor trick." Eckhart laughed again, and Alfonse was almost positive she didn't sound completely sane.

"You boys stay here by the doors." Eckhart ordered suddenly, her personality switching from insane to controlling in just a matter of seconds. "FIVE MINUTES UNTIL ACTIVATION MEN." Eduard and Alfonse both cringed at her shouted orders as she turned quickly and walked off into the bunches of men preparing only God knows what for the activation of the strange circle.

As the boys watched the Thule men scramble about the project floor, someone walked up behind them.

"Hello boys." said an officer wearing glasses, the very same one they ran past earlier, in fact. Alfonse jumped and turned around quickly while Eduard stiffened.

"Oh, um, hello Officer Hughes." stuttered Alfonse. "Ah...what are you doing here?"

"Well I didn't want to miss the party!" laughed Hughes. "This is kind of a big deal, you see. And someone has to keep an eye on the activity." The officer had hastily added his last sentence when Eduard gave him a suspicious glare.

Alfonse gave Eduard a funny look. There was really no reason for Eduard to be suspicious. But then again, it was Eduard. And if he wasn't given a straight answer immediately, he tended to get a bit antsy.

"Anyway," Hughes said. "it looks like they're about to get started."

And the Thule men were. A few of them were crouched at the edge of the circle, touching up small areas and making sure everything was perfect. Eckhart strode up to the edge of the circle and in her hands was a small ivory box. She walked purposefully up to the very center of the circle and set the box neatly down at its center. As she turned and walked back, she nodded to someone that Alfonse couldn't see.

The moment Eckhart stepped off of the circle and turned, five cloaked men bent down and placed their hands upon the outermost ring of the circle.

Alfonse watched with a mixture of shock and amazement as the circle began to glow, then burst to life with sparks of an iridescent blue.

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><p><strong>Well. My younger sister was watching Adventure Time while I was writing a good chunk of this...made it difficult to be serious. Lol.<strong>

**And I suppose I lied last chapter. All of the more interesting stuff will happen in the _next _chapter. Lol, I guess.**

**HURR THIS IS NOT AS LONG AS I WANTED IT TO BE. Sorry 'bout that.**

**~Maddy **


	3. Chapter 3

**Now here we go with chapter three.**

**I'm very sorry the last couple of chapters have been so short, I'll work on that. **

**IN OTHER NEWS, Fullmetal Alchemist will never be mine.**

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><p>Chapter Three: Enter the boy who fell from the Wormhole<p>

If one looked closely, he could see the small ivory box at the center of the circle rattle violently; almost as if it was anticipating something very important. The graceful, swooping letters began to crackle with electricity and the geometric patterns of the circle sparked vividly. A sharp wind whipped about the room and tugged angrily at the cloaks of the Thule Society's members.

Alfonse could only watch as a large eye opened up under the little box. The eye gazed up at it and far past it at the same time. Small black hands with long snakelike arms slithered lazily up towards the ceiling. Some of them even reached out to tug lightly on random objects as if they were looking to discover new items to play with. The hands closest to the box reached down and began to tear into it; the places where they dragged their small black fingers on the box began to dissolve until there was nothing left but a glowing red light. Soon that too faded away.

At first Alfonse thought that it was a trick of the light, but he could have sworn that he was now seeing two circles instead of one. A perfect mirror image of the circle painstakingly painted onto the floor was slowly rising up towards the ceiling. Even the eye and hands mirrored the first perfectly. The image seemed to pulse like it had a heartbeat, and a small black hole opened up at its center.

Eckhart laughed triumphantly and was about to start shouting orders again when one of the men shouted and pointed up to the hole.

Alfonse watched the hole carefully. He could just make out what looked like a human body hovering just behind the opening. And almost as suddenly as the circle had lit up, the body fell through the hole and the hands had caught it. It was limp in their grasp, a head of long gold hair drooped lifelessly from their black mass. But the body was too high up; Alfonse couldn't see the face.

He was almost sure that whoever had been pulled through was dead. He almost hoped that they were; Lady Eckhart looked like she would personally kill whoever it was hanging from the circle. The little hands caressed the body gingerly and tugged lightly at its clothing. (A white button-up dress shirt and some black pants.) Had the body been living, it surely would have been reacting to the hands exploring it; which only convinced Alfonse further that there was no human life up there.

The body thrashed abruptly, causing anyone who doubted that it was alive to change their minds (Alfonse included). When it began to struggle, the now definitely alive body was dropped mercilessly to the floor by the hands, who seemed to have lost interest. Luckily it wasn't too far of a drop; only about twenty feet. The body tumbled down but at the last second it flipped and landed on its feet.

Eduard gasped next to Alfonse. He could barely land on his feet from jumping over a fence and yet whoever this person was had just landed neatly on their feet from practically a two story drop. They tried to stand upright but stumbled and plopped down heavily. (Eduard was suddenly much less impressed.) The person was definitely a male, even though his long hair would have easily suggested female, and has he looked up, Eduard almost swore his heart had stopped for a millisecond.

He stared nervously at the face of the boy who fell from the wormhole. And a set of sharp golden eyes stared unnervingly back. Eduard was gazing at a boy who was (aside from the very obvious differences) perfectly identical to him.

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><p>Ed wasn't really sure what had happened. One minute he had been fighting for his life, the next he had been turned into a sacrifice for the Gates and was undoubtedly going to meet his end.<p>

He could feel the Gate's presence. The extensive knowledge that the Truth held was spiraling about him like a storybook. He could see the world and feel the irreversible flow of energy and life. His body tingled under the pressure. It felt as if pins and needles were picking at his flesh while his fingertips went numb. The ports for his automail stung relentlessly. The deep void that was the Gate of Truth was swallowing him.

And for the first time in his life, Edward Elric let it. He was just too damn tired to care. Edward gazed at his own body through his mind and everything slowed down. He let the world flow through him in slow motion, taking it all in. Snippets of his life flashed before him, and faded away. The Truth wanted more than just his entire being, didn't it? Edward supposed he needed to fight back; to turn the tables on fate, just as he always did. Though by the time his mind finally caught up to his body, the opening to elsewhere emerged and the small black hands and choked the air right out of him. There would be no fighting back this time.

So the World and Truth faded to black.

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><p>Maes Hughes watched an odd scene unfold. He was certain that Eduard was an only child; he had known the boy practically since birth. (He was trouble, even at a young age.) But here was another young man golden hair and eyes that he had thought only ran in the Ehrlich(1) family. His hair was certainly longer, and he had a more rugged look to him than Eduard, but aside from that the boys could have been identical twins.<p>

Eduard's look alike was currently gazing around the room. He didn't seem to notice Eduard. Hughes was positive that wouldn't be the case soon; the boy didn't seem to miss a thing. He held his breath as the young man's eyes fell upon him. Hughes looked him in the eye, trying to relay some unspoken message, _don't fight, we mean you know harm. _He hoped that the boy caught the urgent look Hughes gave him, but the boy held an expression that suggested that he was in something like utter shock.

His was a gaze filled with shock, guilt, and a fire to rival the sun.

The boy's expression switched, like he caught himself staring. His face went stony and he quickly looked away. Hughes watched the boy's reaction to Alfonse and Eduard, and then watched Lady Eckhart's reaction to the boy.

So far, his future did not look pretty.

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><p>Lady Eckhart was so furious, she was finding it hard to speak. There were very few times in her life when she didn't have any words to say. She was a woman of many words; one good at public speaking. The only words that managed to form on her lips right at that very moment though, where not ones that the young man sitting on her precious inter-dimensional transmutation circle would want to hear.<p>

"Get that boy." she hissed.

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><p><strong>(1) <span>Ehrlich<span>: German for honest; A German last name that sounds really fucking similar to Elric. I'm so sneaky~**

**Poor Edward's unconscious body-GATE-BABY RAPE!**

**And then there was much disappointment amongst the readers; as the cliffhanger was even worse than the last chapter, and the word count was still so utterly close to unchanging.**

**By the way, please do not expect updates to be _this _regular. I am unsure as to what should happen next, so it may be a while. **

**Many thankies! **

**~Maddy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello darlings. Dare I say that Fullmetal Alchemist isn't mine and never was? I think not. You all know this already so it would be a waste of time.**

**(I will say it anyway because I know you all just _love _hearing it.) I do not own FMA.**

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><p>Chapter four: Wrongdoings to a young soul and the sighting of a Look-alike<p>

A set of pretty blue eyes stared back at a young lady. She gazed at herself in a little hand-held mirror, carefully scrutinizing every one of her features. She had nice, pale skin and long blonde hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail. Her bangs dusted her eyes ever so slightly, giving her an appearance she would only deem as mysterious. (To a young man who did _not _know her who enjoyed mysterious looking girls.) (There was a lack of them in that small town but she wasn't about to admit that.)

"Look at you, Heide." she sighed. "Seventeen years old and still without a boyfriend."

She made a pouty face at herself in the mirror. So sad that what she had just said was true. The poor young maiden had only just turned seventeen and was at the peak of beauty, but the young man she had her eyes on barely glanced her way. (In _that _sort of way. He knew she existed; they fought with each other daily.) She didn't know what she was doing wrong; it wasn't like she was too shy to speak or anything. In fact, it was a bit of the opposite. Heide would yell at her crush on a daily basis. She always got so mad when he was around; most likely for the fact that she couldn't muster up the courage to simply _tell _him that she loved him and it frustrated her to no end, which meant she couldn't utter a single word that was not some sort of criticism or insult.

It was simply her nature.

Heide placed her mirror back on the vanity next to her bed and stood up from the little wooden stool she had been sitting on. She stretched her arms, raising them well above her head and heaved a sigh.

"What's a girl to do?" she wondered aloud.

Of course, the answer to that question was very simple. She would make a nice lunch for her dearest younger brother (by about 6 minutes), her crush, and herself, then bring it to the factory where the boys worked and hope that the young man she loved would notice that she had put extra care into making his lunch and get the picture.

It was far fetched, but a girl can dream, right?

Heide supposed not.

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><p>The factory in the small town was currently in nothing short of chaos. As it turned out, the look alike was not quite as exhausted as he appeared. The moment Eckhart set her men on him, he went up and out. The boy reminded Alfonse of a jumping spider; he was quick, nimble, and he could certainly jump a fair distance.<p>

As the Thule men started running at him he sprung up, did a little somersault in the air, then landed neatly on one man's shoulders. He jumped from one unsuspecting man onto the next, knocking them down with his momentum and weight, and quickly made his way over to the steel doors. Upon finding that they were closed tight and locked, he did something Alfonse knew he would never forget. The odd boy clapped his hands together and smacked his palms against the door. When nothing happened he seemed to panic for a moment and was about to try again, but he noticed at the last second that the men (aside from the unfortunate ones lying on the ground clutching their shoulders and, in a rare case or two, their heads) were almost on top of him. He rushed away from the doors and jumped up onto some wooden crates that had been neatly stacked not far from the door. He climbed up as far as they would go, and took a flying leap to the second floor platform. Once up, he bolted towards the nearest window and disappeared through it.

Eckhart was white with fury.

"C'mon, Eduard." Alfonse whispered. "We ought to get out of here before they notice that you're identical to him."

Eduard only nodded and let Alfonse lead him out, his hand firmly clamped on Eduard's wrist.

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><p>Edward landed in an alley behind the building that transmutation was in. He felt just a bit light headed, and maybe a little pissed off, but he figured now was not the time to be mulling over what had just happened. Escaping came first.<p>

He went left, then right, and, for good measure, went left again. Soon he found himself on what looked like the main street of wherever the hell he was. It was busy, but in a peaceful, friendly sort of way that reminded him of Rush Valley or maybe even a larger version of Risembool. He highly doubted that any of these people knew what was going on behind the walls of that building he had just escaped from.

Striking up a more casual, less panicky and trying-to-escape-from-a-bunch-of-cloaked-weirdos stance, Edward strode into the crowd of busy people. He made sure to keep his head down, and he was suddenly feeling very naked without his trench coat and its large hood. He figured that having it would be a bad thing in the long run though, seeing as it was bright red and very spot-able in a crowd. Wearing it and wearing its hood would be counter productive. He slipped through a small group of people standing around a soup stand and rounded a corner, only to run into someone hard enough to knock them over.

_So much for not drawing attention, _Edward thought sourly. He was about to sprint away, but he spared a glance at who he had run into, just to make sure they weren't to badly hurt. (He wasn't completely heartless.) The person sitting on the ground though, looking completely and utterly shocked at Edward, stopped him in his tracks.

What the _hell _was _Winry_ doing in this strange place? And what the hell was up with that girly dress she was wearing?

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><p>At first Heide had just been angry. This was her brand new dress; a light maroon color with a black rose print on the skirt, and now it would undoubtedly be ruined. She was sitting on the dirty ground with the lunch she had carefully made strewn all over her skirt. (She really regretted bringing a small dish of sauerkraut(1) along with her.) She glared up at the person she ran into, only to find Eduard gawking down at her like she fell from the sky.<p>

Heide was about to snap at him for it and demand that he help her but she suddenly found herself at a loss of words. This was definitely _not_ Eduard. The boy looked just like him, but it wasn't him.

Whoever it was gazed down at her, his gold eyes brandishing shock and, what was that, disgust? Now Heide was absolutely furious.

"Well don't look at me like that!" she snapped irritably. "Be a gentleman and help me up." She held up a hand, fully expecting him to take it and apologize, but he just looked down at her. The shock and disgust were both gone and had been replaced by annoyance. The boy just rolled his eyes and ran off, leaving Heide alone on the sidewalk with food all over her brand new dress and a surprised expression on her face.

Her eyes followed him as he disappeared into an alleyway on the other side of the street. Heide jumped up with surprising speed.

"YOU JERK!" She shrieked, earning herself a few odd looks. _Nobody_ treated Heide Heiderich like _that. _She was a lady of class; the daughter of the town's best doctors. Who was _he_ to treat her like _that_? Or any girl for that matter? What a _jerk_!

"Heide?" a timid voice asked. Heide new at once who it was; Alfonse hated trying to talk to her when she was mad.

"Alfonse! And Eduard too!" she gasped. "You wont believe what just happened to me! This brutish young man just ran into me and then ran off without even helping me up! What was odd though was that he looked just like Eduard...speaking of, you look a bit pale, Eduard. Are you sick?" Heide looked at Eduard curiously. He was definitely paler than usual, and he was looking the taddest(2) bit nauseous.

"A boy who looked like Eduard ran into you?" Alfonse asked. Heide noticed that Alfonse had Eduard's wrist in his hand.

"Yes; he ran into that back street over there. You should go chase after him and tell him to apologize. Not helping someone you run into is rude." Heide stuck her nose in the air.

"Ah, I think it would be best if we just went home for now." Alfonse said. "Eduard isn't doing too well after all that just happened...We saw him too, Heide; Eduard's look alike. And he saw us." Heide's eyes widened. She wondered what it was like to see another version of yourself running around.

"And?" she prompted. "What happened when he saw you two?"

"Well, nothing. Actually." Alfonse shrugged. "He looked surprised to see us, but I guess he wasn't quite as shocked as we were. After that he just ignored us... of course we did sneak out of the factory, so maybe he thought we were still in there. I don't really know." Heide nodded.

"Okay then." she sighed. "Let's go home." Alfonse nodded and gave Eduard's wrist a light tug.

"C'mon, we're going home." he said gently. Eduard looked at him blankly and nodded. Heide winced; she had only seen Eduard look like that once, when his dad died. Eduard was having a tough time processing all of this, and Heide decided to take it upon herself to help him. She grabbed his other hand and smiled. He simply blinked at her and let Alfonse lead the way. Heide felt just a little bit discouraged by that, but kept her grip on his hand none-the-less.

Big things were going to happen soon, that much Eduard knew. He did not know, however, just how right he was.

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><p><strong>(1) Sauerkraut: a German dish that is basically disgusting unless eaten with other foods in small portions. It doesn't smell to good either. (Sorry sauerkraut lovers.)<strong>

**(2) Taddest: just a word I like to use that isn't actually a word according to spell check. It's the same as smallest or tiniest.**

**And look! A slightly longer chapter this time! That, my darlings, is called progress. **

**I kept on snickering during the part where Heide flipped her shit. She's waaay more snooty than Winry coz she's rich and pretty (and knows it). She's one of the more popular girls in the little town that is our setting; she's used to being treated with more respect. (Meaning she's got all of the boys aside from Eduard wrapped around her little finger.) (That might be why she likes him. Lol!)**

**~Maddy**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello. How are you? You don't need to answer that. I don't mind, really.**

** The ending of the last chapter sucked, so I'm going to do something about that in this chapter. (In other words I'll make the ending of this chappie not suck.)**

**Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine, but this story is. (Shocker.)**

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><p>Chapter 5: Forth comes the Liar who strives for Justice and Peace<p>

Edward sprinted down an abandoned alleyway with more motivation to get away than before. If whoever-it-was who looked like Winry were chasing him, it would be all over. Winry was a determined one, and if that girl was anything like she was, then she'd have to have a fairly good reason to not hunt him down. She had made quite a scene as he ran off, (the girl's lungs definitely worked fine) and Heaven help him if she found him and made an even bigger one.

The girl, Edward had decided, was way too stuck up to be (his) Winry. The look that she had given him as she shoved her hand in his face very clearly said, "I do not appreciate it when things are not my way." and that was one thing that Edward would not tolerate. He hated selfish people and he hated ignorant people even more. She was a mix of both. That was a big no-no. Edward new for a fact that if he stuck around her, he'd snap like a toothpick and undoubtedly do something stupid and/or dangerous.

He figured hiding out somewhere and waiting for things to calm down would be the best way to go.

There were tall buildings looming above him, making him feel claustrophobic, but if Edward were to go anywhere else, _anywhere open, _then he'd be as good as caught. So he endured the trapped feelings and ignored his instincts to _get out _and slipped quietly through the streets of the town he was stranded in.

After a while, he ended up in a large park (which was probably centrally located within the town). There was a fairly large river running through it, and a bridge big enough for an automobile to drive across in either direction going over said river. Trees were growing diligently along the river and all through the park; people walked and played quietly under the shelter of their branches. Edward walked quietly across the well kept grass to a small path that wound its way towards the river. He was constantly on the look out, as this place was more open than he would have preferred, but luckily it was fairly crowded; enough that he could be at ease, if only just the slightest.

As he walked, Edward passed a black walnut tree situated towards the center of the park. It was easily five stories tall and had a thick trunk. Edward made sure to remember it. The tree made a nice landmark, in case he got even more lost, and, by Edward's standards, it was a great hiding place. Its thick branches would easily support him and the leaves would give him cover so using it as a hiding place would be a good plan. (Just in case.)

Edward was about to continue to the bridge, but something didn't feel right. Somebody was watching him. He stiffened, and prepared himself for the worst.

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><p>Hughes wasn't sure when Eduard and Alfonse had slipped away, but he figured it was good that they did. Eckhart was in a rage, which meant getting in her way would be concluded with sudden death.<p>

Seeing as the Officer did not technically have to be there, he figured he would make an exit as well. The factory was in chaos, so slipping away would be a cinch. Maybe Hughes could go find the boys; they probably hadn't gotten far. Or even the kid who fell from that circle...he was fast though, Hughes didn't think he'd be able to catch that one if he tried. _Either way though,_ he thought, _I need to get out of here._

And so Officer Maes Hughes quietly left the chaotic factory without so much as a backwards glance. (The less he saw, the better.)

Hughes meandered about his little town for a while, nodding to civilians and settling the occasional scuffle between routy boys or telling a confused day-drinker that it was time to head home before he got hurt...all of the usual things that an ordinary police officer might do while browsing about his home town. _Make it seem like nothing is wrong._ He gave a shy wave to the florist as he passed her watering the flowers she had on display. _Act like you know nothing._ He patted the head of the old dog who was always observing daily life on his porch. _There isn't some wild boy from God-knows-where running around in the shadows._ Hughes decided that he might take a look at the park on the east side of the city. _No one will bring harm to these people._ What a lie.

There they were; people Hughes had grown up with, their children, their pets, all running and playing innocently in the large park where he himself had ran and played as a child. _There was an underground cult and some wild delinquent causing trouble in his town_. These people knew nothing of either. _They could get hurt_. Another World War was making its way to center stage.

_How could he even face them?_

It was his job. He needed to uphold the peace of his town, as was the duty of any officer. What the towns people did not know would not hurt them, right? Their unawareness could get them killed. It would be his fault.

It would be his fault because he had done nothing to fix things.

It was his _job_ to fix things; to make things _safe._

Safe for the people who lived in his town who knew nothing of the danger they would to face if he wasn't there to protect them. It wasn't their job, it was _his. _And every one of them deserved safety. Even that boy. He might not be a delinquent for all Hughes knew. He might be a terrified and lost teenager who needs the security of a police officer. Because keeping everything secure was a police officer's business. It was a universal fact.

Hughes decided then and there that finding that boy would be his top priority. He wouldn't surrender him over to Eckhart (oh no, that would not only be cruel but also life-threatening to said boy) but help him stay low until they could find a way to fix things. Keep the towns people and that boy safe. Hughes doubted that the poor kid was enjoying this; he was probably scared, confused, standing right in front of Hughes...wait.

There he was! That very boy he was thinking of, who needed his help more than anyone at that very moment, was standing _right there_ not more than a few paces away. (How he hadn't noticed the boy sooner, Hughes would never know.) He was standing stock-still; his whole body was tense, like he might spring out of grasp at any moment.

And suddenly Hughes completely forgot what it was a police officer like himself was supposed to do in this situation.

Something had changed. He had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu. Somehow the boy standing in front of him was so much more than just some unpredictable teenager he had to find and, in a sense, rescue. He was... he was more like... But the moment was gone all too quickly. Hughes blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. He took a step towards the boy.

"Um...hey there." Hughes didn't think he had ever sounded more unsure in his entire life. The boy visibly flinched, then turned slowly.

"Y-yeah?" he asked. Honestly, Maes had no idea why he had been so unsure of the boy before. The kid looked like he was about to faint; he was probably completely exhausted and scared out of his mind. Officer Hughes was back.

"Don't worry, son." he said gently. "I'm not with those freaks from the factory. I'll help you out of this mess best I can, okay?"

The boy, who was too pale for comfort, nodded. Hughes took a breath he didn't know he had been holding and smiled at the kid in front of him.

"Alright. I'm Maes Hughes, you can just call me Hughes. What can I call you?" The boy paused for a long moment, mulling over whether or not giving out his name was a good idea.

"Edward." He said, with a little more defiance than before. "You can just call me Ed."

Weird. Not only did he have Eduard's face, but his name too.

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><p><strong>OH MY GOSH HUGHES. I have NO INTENTION of killing him guys. NONE WHATSOEVER.<strong>

**Sigh, I seriously want to make this chapter (and all of my chapters) longer, but I haven't a clue as to how. Please give me reviews and/or PMs containing little scenarios that could happen within this story that I might use to lengthen a chapter or to fuel other ideas! It doesn't just have to be with Ed, it can be with any one! Like, some random dilly that happens between Alfonse and Heide or that florist and Hughes. I dunno.**

**I need some brain food.**

**~Maddy**


	6. Chapter 6

**"Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine." said Maddy. The internet nodded in morose understanding. Fullmetal Alchemist was way to cool to belong to some lowly fangirl like dear Maddy. It made perfect sense.**

**(Le skippiddy-skip!)**

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><p><strong>Dear ThePineappleKiller,<strong>

**Firstly, how dare you not let me reply to your review? We could have had a lovely conversation!**

**Secondly, I do intend to show more relationships.**

**Thirdly, thank you very much for such a great review! If you want to have a real conversation with more details, then please message me! (and leave a reply URL, darn it.)**

**Now with inspiration, **

**~Maddy**

* * *

><p><strong>(Okay read again.)<strong>

**Sorry to everyone who has been awaiting a new chapter. School is a bitch, but I believe we all knew that.**

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><p>Chapter 6: The Man with a Hole in his Hand<p>

Officer Hughes was fairly sure that he had never been in such an awkward situation before. He was fairly sure that _nobody_ had been in such an awkward situation before. Because really, who on Earth do you know who has met an alternate version of a trouble-making, teenage boy who lives in the same town as you? Well _nobody_, of course. Therefore it is entirely impossible to know what to do in a situation such as this. It didn't help that if things started to get awkward for the poor police officer, he began rambling.

Rambling is awkward.

"...though I suppose you've never heard of that, since you're not from around here." Hughes finished his long and very unnecessary explanation of something Edward had never heard of because he was from another dimension.

The two of them had been walking back towards Hughes's house, where they decided that Edward would stay until things settled down a bit. Hughes wasn't sure why Ed had decided to trust him so quickly, and he was fairly sure that his incessant rambling wasn't helping his case, but the boy was putting up with it (had long since completely tuned it out) and was making things a lot easier on both of them by simply following Hughes and cooperating. He didn't say much, (if that was because Hughes barely paused, even for a breath, we'll never know) but when he did Hughes noticed that Ed spoke with a slight accent, like he was from a different region of Germany. Hughes decided to ask about it, get the kid talking a bit (small talk was just a little bit less awkward.)

"I didn't know I had an accent." Ed glanced up at Hughes. "Hell, as far as I know, everyone speaks like this where I'm from and _you're_ the one with the accent."

"Really? So it's not because you're speaking our language and not your own?" Well wasn't that confusing, Hughes thought.

"No, we're definitely speaking the same language, which is what I've been speaking since I was born." Edward said, looking thoughtful. "And even if I _was_ speaking your language and not my own, how would I even know it, seeing as my arrival was kind of abrupt."

Kid had a point.

"So if we're speaking the same language, then you must be from some other version Germany?"

"I guess." Edward looked around, gold eyes taking in everything. "The technology's about the same, so is the clothing style, but there are some huge differences in both...and other things too."

"What else is different?" Hughes dodged a lamp post. He had been so focused on Ed that he almost didn't see it.

"The names, for one thing."

"People's names?"

"No, the country's. What kind of name is Germany? Sounds like some kind of fungus." Edward made a face and deep down inside, Hughes was just the slightest bit offended.

"Well what's the name of your country?" Hughes tried not to sound like it, but he knew the kid could tell that he didn't like people dissing his homeland. The boy smirked at him.

"Amestris." It was a fairly grand name. If Hughes remembered correctly, Amestris had been some royal lady or another from somewhere, some time long ago. (Go to author's note for some fun facts.)

"I guess that is an interesting name." Hughes mumbled.

"Yeah." Edward murmured. He had a distant look to him and Hughes was beginning to feel awkward again. Luckily his apartment was just another block or so away; he was sure he could keep quiet until then.

Hughes turned a corner, planning on cutting through another alley way. He quickened his pace just a bit, and Edward fell just a bit farther behind him. Suddenly there was a loud shout. Hughes whipped around just in time to see Ed hit the ground and sparks fly from the wall behind him. Then suddenly the boy was up, unscratched, and sprinting towards the fire escape several yards ahead. Two men ran from the street outside the alley, both had guns and a badge that Thule Society members wore.

"Get that rat!" one man shouted. Hughes instinctively pulled out his pistol, ready to fire at the men if they shot again. They took it the wrong way though, and pointed at Ed.

"Shoot him down!" Hughes blinked. At who? Edward?

"I can't shoot a kid!" Hughes yelled back, playing along. Maybe he could buy Ed some time to escape. One of them men growled angrily, took aim at Edward and pulled the trigger. Hughes and the man fired at the same time; one bullet hit Edward in the left shoulder, the other got the Thule member in the hand. The first man grabbed the man who fired as he fell over, clutching his hand. Hughes turned to see if Ed was alright, make sure he hadn't been hit, but the boy was gone.

"What the hell was that for?" yelled the man who wasn't bleeding.

"Ah, sorry. Your friend there surprised me when he fired. I thought he was aiming for me." Hughes laughed lightly and the man glared up at him. "Your friend okay there?"

"Jus' dandy." the one with the hole in his hand said through his teeth. "Go get that kid for Lady Eckhart. I'll be okay."

"Sure?" the first asked, he didn't look convinced. The other nodded.

"Right then. C'mon, cop. You've got good aim, so maybe you can make up for shooting down my partner by putting a bullet in that brat's head." Hughes really didn't think that he shot the other man down. He'd still be able to use his hand when everything was said and done; the spot Hughes had aimed for and hit wasn't even a vital one. He was also more or less completely certain that the man could stand up if he really needed to. But whatever floated his boat, Hughes figured.

"Tell you what," Hughes said, "I'll go catch that kid for you, and you get your friend to a doctor. No reason for him to loose more blood, *ja?"

The first still looked skeptical, but the second was bleeding pretty badly, so he nodded in agreement.

"Oh!" Hughes gasped as he was turning. "Make something up for the doctors if they ask how you got shot. Don't want anyone finding out about this kid, alright?"

Both men nodded and stood, the first supporting the second, who was looking pale and being secretly relieved that the officer offered to do the job alone.

"We'll go tell Lady Eckhart that you're on the case...ah, what was your name?" The first one looked up at Hughes.

"Just a police officer. Being anonymous is more fun anyway." The man looked confused. Having Lady Eckhart pleased with you was like having the Goddess Freya smile upon you. It would be hard for this man to know something so great if the Lady did not know who he was. But whatever floated his boat, both men figured.

"Right," Hughes said hastily, a little thrown off by the odd looks the men were giving him, "I'll be off then."

He made a quick retreat, heading in the direction that he assumed Ed had ran in. He just hoped the boy didn't run off too far; no need for him to get even more lost, right? Exactly right. What kind of police officer would Hughes be if he lost his temporary charge? He glanced around and then peered behind a trash can, hoping that Ed might be childishly cowering behind it, scratch-less and quivering. But the idea of the boy doing something like that made Hughes snort with stifled laughter. In the short time that Hughes had known Edward, he had deducted that he wasn't the type of boy who would be cowering at all; the quickness he displayed when he dodged that bullet was proof of that.

...How does a young boy like that know how to dodge any projectile so well anyway? Had Hughes been in Ed's place, he would have undoubtedly been bleeding to death or already dead on the ground by now. What kind of young boy was Ed anyway? Thinking about it, the ultimate calm Ed seemed to show over the whole situation was unusually out of character for a teenager, or anyone for that matter.

Hughes decided that more questioning and small talk was in order here. This boy was more of a mystery now than ever before, and as Hughes had a knack for solving mysteries, this one would be no different.

Hughes started for the other end of the alley and began looking down smaller alleyways that connected to the larger one.

At first Hughes almost didn't see Edward, what with his dark clothes and the shadows of the building and the way he was being very, almost unnaturally still. Hughes actually did walk right past the still, quiet lump that was Edward, leaned half against the brick wall of the building and half against a pile of wooden crates. Something in the back of his mind made him turn back though.

(It was almost like a game of 'Hot or Cold'. As he came towards the little path that wanted to be an alleyway, his instincts were screaming '_Hot, HOT Hughes! You must be on FIRE!_', but the second he stepped foot beyond the little way, his instincts, if they were being accurately personified, heaved a great sigh and said in a monotone sort of voice, '_Cold._' Hughes stopped dead and took a second look, always trusting his intuition.)

So Hughes turned and walked back into the narrow alleyway, determined to find Ed and get him somewhere safe. He looked around, squinting and willing his eyes to adjust faster to the gloom. Then sure enough, a little ways back, was Edward. Hughes jogged over to the boy's still form, his stomach dropping when he made out the slouched position Ed was in and the way he loosely clutched his bloody shoulder.

"Oh gosh." Hughes whispered. He dropped to one knee and carefully pulled Ed into a better sitting position. The boy groaned in annoyance and glared up at Hughes with one opened eye.

"Can I help you with something?" Ed asked. For someone who had just been shot and was now bleeding on the ground in an alleyway, Ed didn't sound to upset; more like a teenager who had just been woken up at ten in the morning instead of at noon.

"You got shot." Hughes said hoarsely. He seemed to be taking the news worse than Ed.

"Amazing deduction." Edward quipped, somehow managing to sound completely sarcastic through the pain he was probably in. "Thought you were going to walk right on by me."

"Almost did. Got a feeling I would be in for it if I didn't though."

"Heh, I would have punched you good." Ed smiled up weakly at Hughes. He would be okay, and Hughes breathed easier for the second time that day.

"C'mon, we need to get you out of this alley." Hughes moved to Ed's right side, and looped an arm around his waist. "How about we go up on three, give you a second to get ready."

"How about we go up now, and give me a second to recover from a head rush?" Edward asked. That set Hughes's idea in stone; this boy was not a normal one.

"...Alright then." And as they stood up, Hughes whispered 'three' under his breath, which didn't go unnoticed by Ed. He smirked, then winced and swooned.

"You okay there?" Hughes was suddenly much more worried about the boy than before. Sure it was just a shoulder wound, but he looked like he had lost a lot of blood. Ed was leaning really heavily on Hughes now, which only served to make him feel even more anxious and guilty.

"Uhg, yeah. Like I said, fucking head rush." Ed moaned as he steadied himself. Hughes kept his arm tight around the boy's thin waist, pulling Ed slightly against his side so that he would be taking more of the weight. Then, together, the two of them made the short-trek-made-long up to Hughes's home.

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><p>Edward was sitting on Hughes's couch. They were in his small second floor apartment in a small brick building about a block from where Ed had been shot. Hughes was running back and forth like a mad man, trying to find his first-aid kit and some towels and boil some water while trying to call a doctor all at the same time. If Edward's vision wasn't starting to get a bit blurry, and if his shoulder wasn't stinging so badly, and if the circumstances themselves were perhaps the exact opposite of what they were (This was <em>his<em> Hughes and they were in Amestris and he was trying to find a band-aid for Elicia because she got a paper-cut for example.) then Hughes's overreaction would probably be very funny.

But right now Ed was in pain, having trouble seeing, and was starting to get light headed, to top it all off. He contemplated flopping over onto his side, but that would jolt his body a bit too hard and probably result in a headache. Instead he leaned forward, letting his left arm droop in front of him while he cradled his head in his right hand, his elbow supported on his knee. Blood was dripping onto the floor, and some was running down his back and getting onto the couch cushions. (He didn't want to get even more blood on Hughes's couch than he already had, so Ed had leaned forward instead of back.)

Edward decided to think about positive things, like Al and Winry and all the nice doctors Edward yelled at out of boredom during his hospital stays suggested. Since there was blood on his back that meant the bullet had gone through, which meant no surgery to remove it. That was good. He was safe and (relatively) dry. Also good. He was with Hughes, who was a trustworthy man...but his Hughes was dead and this Hughes was from another dimension that Ed was currently stranded in. And Ed had discovered that he couldn't use his alchemy to get back home. All of those were bad. Then there was the fact that Ed's back _was_ bleeding and he was _not_ dry and he was _with a man who was supposed to be dead-_

No wonder Ed wasn't a very positive person. It made his head hurt.

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><p><strong>Remember how I told you to go the the Author's note for some fun facts? Yes? Well here they are:<strong>

**Amestris was indeed a royal lady... in Persia. She was the wife of Xerxes I some time after 522 BC. Isn't that cool? Google Amestris or something if you wanna learn more.**

***ja: yah; German for 'yes'.**

**That is all.**

**~Maddy**


	7. Chapter 7

**The Internet gazed into Maddy's dark, fangirl soul. **

**"Hey there." It said.**

**"Oh hello." said Maddy.**

**"You own FMA yet?****"**

**"Nope."**

**And so it was.**

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><p>Chapter 7: Enter the First Doctor of Two<p>

Eduard, Alfonse, and Heide all sat solemnly in the room that the boys shared. Sara and Trisha were downstairs cooking up something that smelled delicious (as mothers generally do) and Urey, Heide and Alfonse's father, was away taking care of a man who managed to shoot himself in the hand, however one did that.

"So what do you make of all this?" Alfonse asked Heide. The two of them were sitting on Alfonse's bed, while Eduard sat across from them on his own.

"It all seems completely ridiculous." replied Heide. "But I know it happened." She heaved a sigh. This was going to set things back, wasn't it?

Alfonse remained silent, Eduard glared at a stray thread on the quilt he was sitting on.

To explain things a bit better, Eduard and his mother Trisha were living with the Heiderich family. Eduard's father was killed in a house fire around three years ago, and Trisha was having trouble coping. Sara, being best friends with Trisha since they were little girls, suggested that they move in with her family, since everyone got along so well and they had plenty of room. It would only be temporary, she said, but it simply didn't work out that way. Everyone grew too accustomed to having the two remaining Ehrlichs living with them. Trisha more or less became house keeper for the family, and Eduard found a job to help pay bills; Alfonse joined him not long after. Sara and Urey both worked as doctors, so the two families turned into one were basically set. Nobody saw any reason to change their situation.

So for three years, give or take a month or so, the family lived comfortably. That was, until the Thule society occupied their small town located by the capitol and ran the two boys ragged. They dealt with it for as long as they needed to, of course. (Money is money, no one can say otherwise.) But then came the bombshell that was Eduard's alter-self.

After slipping out of the factory and getting covered in sauerkraut, the two boys and one girl made their way home to absorb everything that had happened and change into a clean dress. Alfonse had explained everything that had gone down in the factory, while Eduard remained silent.

"What I don't get," mused Heide, "is why the person to fall out of that wormhole-circle thing looked exactly like Eduard."

"That is a bit of a mystery." said Alfonse. "I'm sure there is some reason for it though. What do you think Eduard?" Said boy glanced up from his staring when he heard his name.

"I don't like it." he stated. "What can we do anyway? He may look like me, but it really has nothing to do with us."

"That might not be true." Alfonse argued. "What if it does have to do with us?"

Eduard didn't have an answer for that.

"Do you think we should try to find him?" Heide asked.

A "Hell no!" and "That might be a good idea." both sounded out at the same time. Eduard and Alfonse glared at one another. Heide played with the lace on her dress, feeling a bit guilty for making her brother and his best friend (of whom she had a crush) turn on each other.

Alfonse, the ever timid, unable to keep the fire in a fight, heaved a sigh and caved.

"If we don't go searching for him to ask what's going on, then what do we do?" he asked.

"Nothing." Eduard stated. "We go about like it didn't happen." It seemed almost opposite of what the fiery young man would normally do, but the circumstances were not entirely normal themselves.

"But what if they mistake you for him?" Heide wondered. 'They' meaning, of course, the Thule Society's members. Would they try to harm Eduard? Or realize that they've got the wrong person? Either way, she had a point.

"I suppose I could just stay here for a while. Y'know, pretend to be sick or something?" it was a fairly fool-proof plan in Eduard's mind.

"Eduard, we aren't skipping school." Alfonse chided. "Besides, seeing as both of our parents are doctors, it wouldn't be hard to figure out that you're faking."

"Well maybe they wont figure it out." Eduard snapped.

"Quit fighting!" yelled Heide, "I swear you two are so immature sometimes."

"Like you're one to talk." Eduard sneered. "Miss Everybody-loves-me-I'm-so-perfect." Eduard said all of that in a girly voice to mock Heide. He did that a lot.

"Oh like you're much better, always holing up like some kind of troll and obsessing over your _lacking _height." Heide retorted. "And that stupid voice you used and that stupid name just prove how immature you are!"

"Well at least I don't fawn over my own reflection!" Eduard yelled, jumping up on his bed.

"At least I've got some sense of dignity!" Heide sprung up as well. Alfonse sighed again and waited for the fight to be over. It amazed him that they could be fighting at a time like this. He was relived that Eduard had bounced back so quickly though; depression did not suit him.

"I'm a very dignified person, damn it! You're just to snooty to see that!"

"I-" Heide didn't finish her sentence though, as the phone interrupted her. Eduard and Heide fell silent, Alfonse sat a little straighter. They could hear Sara pick up the phone and answer it.

"...really? How long ago did it happen?"..."Okay, keep boiling that water, and make sure to apply pressure to the wound. Where did you say you lived Mr. Hughes?"..."Right, I'll be over in a few minutes." There was a soft _click_ as Sara hung up the phone.

"What's up with Officer Hughes?" Eduard wondered.

"Maybe he got hurt, trying to find that boy." Heide suggested. It certainly seemed plausible to her; that boy was nothing but a delinquent. Delinquents are violent and like to hurt people. It was common knowledge.

"No...It sounded more like someone else was hurt." Alfonse said.

"Then who was hurt?" Heide asked. Like either of the boys would know. Said boys shrugged. They could hear someone coming up the stairs. Trisha opened the door to the boys' room, looking a bit out of breath.

"Hey there." she said; the teens looked at her. "There's some kind of emergency; someone got shot. Sara will be over at Officer Hughes's house where the patient is." The trio nodded.

"I've got the address," Trisha continued, "just in case any of you need anything."

"I hope whoever got shot is okay." Heide said and Alfonse nodded.

* * *

><p>Hughes was in a panic.<p>

The water wasn't boiling fast enough, his first aid kit was nowhere to be found, and poor Edward was about ready to pass out so Hughes couldn't leave him alone to go find some towels to hold over the wound he had received.

"My fingers are going numb." Edward mumbled. He was leaned back against the couch now, head flopped back and arms limp at his sides. Hughes was leaning over him at an awkward angle (things were just awkward for this man, weren't they?) trying to keep pressure on the hole in Ed's shoulder and on the hole in his back.

"Don't worry, I've called a good doctor, she'll be here soon!" Hughes laughed nervously. He was trying to keep Ed from worrying, even though Ed didn't really seem all that nervous; just a bit unsure for Hughes.

"You okay there?" Ed asked, his head flopped in Hughes's direction. Half-lidded eyes wandered up to Hughes's face, no trace of fear in them at all.

"Of course!" Hughes all but shouted. (It made Edward's head hurt, but he chose not to say anything.) "As a police officer, I have to stay calm in these kinds of situations."

"Ah-huh." Ed nodded. "If that's the case then calm down. I've taken worse'an a bullet before." Hughes tried not to look at Ed's metal arm or at his exposed collarbone where the prosthetic was attached.

"Sorry, normally I'm better than this..." Hughes trailed off, glancing at the door.

"I know." Edward mumbled, just barely audible. Hughes looked down at the boy.

"What did you say?" Edward just shook his head slightly.

"Nuthin'." He closed his eyes. Hughes's stomach dropped.

"Ed? Hey, Edward?" Hughes was almost certain that the young boy had just died on his bloody couch. "Wait, Ed! Don't die!"

The boy cracked an eye open and glared at him.

"Not gonna die. Good God."

"...Oh." It was the only way Hughes could express his immense relief. One syllable words were generally best to use when one is half conscious and bleeding to death on one's couch.

"I'm just closing my eyes," Ed continued. "becoming tedious, keeping them open." Hughes nodded, then realized that because Ed's eyes were closed, he could not see the motion.

"I guess that makes sense." Hughes sighed. Why was he so jumpy with this kid? He had done this sort of thing before, so why was it so different with Ed? Maybe because, this time, it was a child and not an adult who was in his care. But the officer had dealt with hurt children before, so that didn't make sense.

Maybe it was the fact that this child didn't act like a child.

There was a knock on the door, which caused Hughes to jump, which jolted Edward, who moaned in pain. Hughes stood, hands pressed to Ed's still-bleeding wounds. He looked at the door, then down at Edward. There was another knock.

"Go answer the damned door." Edward growled. "I'm not going anywhere." It was all Hughes needed; he rushed to the door and opened it a crack.

"Hello Dr. Heiderich." he said to the impatient looking woman standing on his doorstep. "Ah, I need to warn you about this person before you see him..."

"Officer Hughes, as a doctor I've seen a lot of scary things." Sara Heiderich said as she pushed past Hughes. "Don't underestimate... Eduard?"

Ed cracked an eye open when his name was called. The moment he saw Sara though, both eyes were open and he was standing shakily.

"Ed, you've lost too much blood to be standing up." Hughes gasped. "Just sit back down and let her look at you."

"No way." Edward stumbled backwards, almost falling back onto the couch. "Not her."

Sara couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was certain she had seen Eduard walk in with Heide and Alfonse, no bullet wounds in sight. So how could he be here?

"Eduard how and _when_ did you get shot?" Sara demanded, striding towards him.

"Dr. Heiderich wait, he's not who he looks like! That's what I wanted to tell you!" Hughes reached for Sara, clearly her being there was seriously distressing Ed, who had paled to the point of having a grey tinge to his complexion. Sara turned on him.

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

"Just look at him. He looks like Eduard, but he's not." Sara looked and found that Hughes was right. He was definitely next to identical to Eduard, but his hair was longer, he was a bit thinner, and he was clutching his shoulder with a prosthetic arm that looked far beyond the current technology. Sara relaxed slightly, the worry for her best friend's only son dissipating. Now she was worried for this person's safety, as he was loosing more blood by the minute and slowly inching towards the window to his right.

"Hey wait." she said to him. Edward stiffened and stared at her, wide eyed. "Don't go wondering off. Just let me look at your wound." He nodded stiffly and shuffled back to the couch. Sara knelt in front of him and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I may just have to cut this off." she paused in her unbuttoning to take a look at the wound. There was still fresh blood seeping out of it; the cloth was sticking to his skin but would be easy to peel off without too much fuss. It would be hard for this boy, however, to take the shirt off without causing the bleeding to start up quickly again. That and it would probably hurt to move his arm. She nodded to herself.

"I'm just going to cut your shirt off, alright?" the stunned boy nodded uncomprehendingly and watched her reach for her doctor's bag. Sara pulled out a pair of scissors and began cutting the boy's shirt, starting at the bottom and working her way quickly up to his sleeve. Once she had removed the cloth from the wound, she leaned in closely to see just what damage there was.

"From the look of it, it's mostly muscle damage." Sara said, pulling the boy forward to look at his back. "You've definitely got some muscle damage but..." she carefully felt the bones of his shoulder and collarbone, searching with her fingers for fractures.

"...There's a good chance that your scapula is fractured...Actually there's probably a hole in it. And I'm a bit worried about your first and second ribs too." Sara pressed lightly on the boy's chest, just below his collarbone and next to the little hole. He winced when she pressed. She turned and looked up at Hughes.

"I'll want to get a better look at him." she said. Hughes blinked, then nodded.

"You'll have to get his consent, not mine." Hughes replied. Sara looked at the boy. He was barely able to sit up on his own at this point and was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"For now let's just stop the bleeding. Do you have that boiled water?" Sara looked up at Hughes expectantly.

"Oh! Yes hang on one second!" Hughes rushed out of the room and came back a second later with a large, steaming bowl and some rags. He placed the items carefully on the ground next to Sara, who immediately grabbed a rag, dipped it into the water, and began dabbing the boy's injury.

"What's your name?" She asked him, not really expecting an answer.

"Edward Elric." her patient murmured.

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><p>It took a little while, but eventually Officer Hughes and Sara got Ed's shoulder to stop bleeding. She stitched the wounds up the best she could and began to wrap his the entire left side of his upper torso in bandages. Sara gave the boy a shot of painkillers then laid him down on the ruined couch. By that time Ed wasn't conscious.<p>

"What now?" Hughes asked. It was a really dumb question, but regular protocol for this particular situation wasn't going to cut it, from what Hughes figured. Some other opinions would be useful.

"I want to bring him back to my place, examine him further and make sure that his condition doesn't get worse." Sara looked at the blood on the floor and couch. "He's lost way too much blood for comfort, so I want to keep an eye on him."

"The only thing I'm worried about though is how the kids will react to this." Sara continued morosely. "And Trisha. That poor woman does not need something like this happening."

"Eduard and Alfonse already know; the factory they work at did some weird experiment with alchemy that resulted in Ed's being here. The boys got front row seats." Hughes grimly explained what had happened, and all the while Sara's sky blue eyes widened further and further.

("So you're the one who shot that man in the hand then. It wasn't an accident!" Sara had exclaimed when Hughes told her how Edward had gotten shot.

"I'm afraid so." Sara heaved a heavy sigh.

"Well at least you didn't kill him." The two adults shared a bitter laugh.)

"I suppose the first thing they did was tell Heide." Sara muttered to herself when Hughes was done. "None of them seemed fairly lively when they got home today."

"I hope they're doing alright." Hughes said, looking guilty. "I should have tried to find them, make sure they were okay." Sara shook her head.

"You found this one here," she said, motioning to the sleeping Edward. "and it's more than enough."

"So you think he'll definitely be okay?" Hughes looked down worriedly at Ed's sleeping form.

"Yes, he should be fine. I'm a little relieved that the bullet went through though, makes it easier to deal with the wound." Sara replied.

"The only reason it went through was because the shooter was so close. If we move him, we'll need to be careful." Hughes looked guilty again. Sara gazed at Edward, looking at all of the little scars that littered his torso.

"I don't think he blames you." she said. Hughes didn't have much to say in reply to that. Sara stretched suddenly and smiled at Hughes.

"As much as I'd like my work to be done, we've still got one last thing to do." she said, sighing softly.

"Um...what's that?" Hughes was befuddled by her sudden change in mood and could not, for the life of him, think of anything else that needed to be done for the boy.

"We need to get this blood off of him, and he needs some clean clothes." Sara said sharply, pointing at his bloody pants and the remains of his shirt. Hughes jumped.

"R-right, I'll go grab something for him to wear." He wasn't sure how well that would go, seeing as Ed was thinner (and generally smaller) than he was.

By the time Hughes returned, Sara had managed to remove Edward's pants, socks and shoes, leaving him in just his underwear. She was standing up, her back facing Hughes, staring at Edward.

"Um...Dr. Heiderich? What are you doing?" Hughes asked nervously.

"Come look at this." She said, beckoning him over. Hughes came over, feeling unsure and kind of awkward again. As he neared the couch though, he got a better look at what it was that Sara was staring at. Edward had a prosthetic leg as well.

"What do you make of this?" Sara asked. "I couldn't even tell he was missing a leg too." Hughes just shook his head at a loss for words.

"Do you have something for him to wear?" Hughes handed Sara the clothes he found. "Let's get him cleaned up and over to my place."

Hughes nodded and knelt down next to Edward as Sara did the same. She grabbed the remaining clean rag and began to wipe the long-since-dried blood off of the sleeping boy's body. They got him dressed in some clothes that Hughes was pretty sure he hadn't worn since he was in highschool (he had no idea why he still had them) that were far too big and wrapped him in a blanket.

Then, very carefully, Hughes scooped the boy up and carried him down to Sara's automobile. It was a hard trek; the boy was far heavier than he looked, but they eventually got him situated in the back seat and began their quiet drive back to Sara Heiderich's home. Neither one knew how the others would react to Edward Elric's arrival, but both Sara and Hughes dreaded to find out.

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><p><strong>So ends chapter seven. And guess what! The word count is approximately 3,480! This, my dears, is what we call progress.<strong>

**~Maddy**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey babes. I don't own FMA.**

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><p>Chapter 8: Reminiscent Thoughts and Syringes<p>

Trisha was feeling worried. Of course, as a mother and widow it would only make sense for her to worry; when someone's life is on the line, everyone feels it. She would know, and only all too well.

So Trisha worried as she listened to her only son and the girl he had a crush on but didn't know he had a crush on fight viciously with each other as they always did, drawing some comfort from the normalcy of it. She thought about Eduard and Heide's relationship. Heide was trying, Eduard was all but clueless. Trisha knew very well that her boy liked her best friend's daughter, unfortunately said boy didn't. Mothers are simply good at reading their children.

This thought process went on for a while; Trisha would notice little things that she wouldn't have noticed before her husband's death, and it would lead her onto a train of thought about little things concerning her direct family and adopted family. Trisha was a very sensitive person, especially when it came to the people around her. She understood them better than they probably understood themselves. She just wished she could share the same feelings they had with her own significant other. But alas, Philip Van Hoenheim Ehrlich was buried six feet underground and the soul had taken to the skies in the West, following the setting sun. (Trisha liked to think that, at least. Her husband's hair and eyes had been as vibrant as melted gold, a shade one would only find in nature at dusk, and it lessened her never-ending grief to imagine that he was the one who put that lovely color into the sky; something to look forward to, a morbid and beautiful beacon for her.)

A very loud thump could be heard from upstairs, momentarily surprising Trisha out of her wayward thoughts. Trisha sighed aloud, knowing exactly who had caused the thump. She really wished that her son would have grown tired of bouncing on his bead when he was younger like the other boys. But no child was perfect, she mused.

Supposing she should go upstairs and make sure her child was alright, Trisha stood up from the old, wooden chair she was resting in and headed towards the stairs, glancing at the antique grandfather clock that stood watch over the living room as she did so. Thinking sure took a lot of time, Trisha thought. It had been almost an hour and a half since Sara had rushed out.

Each stair gave a sighing creak as Trisha stepped carefully on each one. She was in no rush to the top of the stairs; Eduard's falling off of his bed was a very normal occurrence. She just wished he did it while he was sleeping the majority of the time instead of the minority. She reached for the brass knob and gave it a turn, knowing exactly what she was going to find.

Alfonse was gazing out the window, as he generally did during these little disputes, looking like he didn't have a care in the world for his friend's well being. (Which was probably a good thing; Eduard was a hardy one and worrying over him simply wasted energy.) Heide was crouched next to Eduard, trying hard not to laugh while he pealed his face off of the hardwood floor. Eduard was bright red and looking more furious by the second. (Looks like he lost this round, Trisha guessed.) He mellowed out though when he noticed his mother's feet in front of him and looked up at her, trying very hard to look like he had not been up on his bed _again_ and more like he simply tripped.

Trisha glanced at the blankets on his bed, not two hours ago were they the epitome of neatness. It would be a tough fix for Eduard to get out of, if Trisha had the energy to be angry.

But she wasn't angry. Trisha was just glad she still had her (wild, unorthodox, intelligent) child to love and hold. Even if it was for only a short time longer.

"Eduard, you'll have a hard time living on your own if you always fall off your bed like that." Trisha scolded. "One day you'll hurt yourself and you won't have Alfonse or Heide to help you back up." That comment received snickers from the twins, as one was completely ignoring any pain Eduard felt and the other was laughing at it.

"Helping." Eduard mumbled. "Yes." He stood stiffly and brushed himself off, being as nonchalant as humanly possible when sporting a bright red face with the wood grain patterns showing up nicely on his forehead. Trisha smiled gently.

"Please be careful, all of you." she said, giving them each a stern look. Each teen nodded once, and when Trisha was satisfied, she turned and left, leaving them to their devices.

The creaking stairs sighed and moaned as Trisha alighted from one to the other, descending back to the ground floor with a despondent grace that only a widow would have. That feeling was back. The worry she felt for someone she doubted she knew was creeping its way into the corners of her mind, changing and altering how she perceived her world. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach; a deep, droning ache that would not leave her be, only adding to the anxiety she felt. Something was definitely not right.

The telltale sound of an automobile coming to a stop outside of the house could be heard. Sara was back. The feeling was getting worse. Trisha walked a little too quickly over to the front window and pulled back the curtain. She could see Sara pulling her medical bag out of the automobile and someone else standing on its other side, leaning well over into the back seat. Sara was directing him, reaching in to help the man lift something out of the back. The man, Trisha realized, was the one who called Sara about two hours ago, Officer Hughes. He was cradling what seemed to be a sleeping person wrapped in a blanket, only the crown of their head (gold hair that reminded Trisha of her late husband, only adding to the dreadful feeling she had) was showing. Hughes seemed to struggle to find his balance while holding the patient and Sara lingered by his side, unsure if she should trust him to get the precious cargo into the house on his own. He seemed fine enough though, and they slowly made there way to the front door.

Trisha stepped back, unsure if she should stay and help or flee the room before she caught a glimpse of something she didn't want to see. Clearly the patient was still alive; Sara's bringing them here was proof of that, so their well-being came before hers. Trisha rushed to the door and opened it to its limit, pressing herself against the wall so Hughes and the the injured person in his arms would have plenty of room. Sara came in first, looking at Trisha in an almost pitying way.

"Thank you, Trisha." she said quickly. "You don't need to stick around for this, okay?" Trisha nodded, not bothering to hide her relief. Sara went for the door, but Hughes was already coming through it, rendering Trisha stuck.

The person in Hughes's arms let out a soft moan and said something unintelligible. Trisha knew she would regret it, but she would probably find out sooner or later so she did it anyway. She stretched up onto her tiptoes to get a look at the patient's face.

Their gold hair was maybe a shade lighter than her husband's had been, no matter how hard she tried to see though, their head was slumped forward, face half buried in Hughes's shoulder. There would be no seeing their face right now. Trisha closed the door quickly and ran upstairs to tell the kids to keep quiet, as Sara was treating a patient.

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><p>Being lifted up was a pain. Being smothered by a wool blanket was a pain. Car rides were a pain. Getting shot was a pain.<p>

But coming into a warm house that smelled of home cooking and pine wood was nice. Especially after all of those painful, tedious things.

Edward was pretty sure he was saying something or another, (he could run is damned mouth at anytime, couldn't he?) but he really didn't know what. He was in a conscious state mentally, but physically Edward was less human and more rag doll. Edward was in all kinds of pain, the car ride had been less than smooth; clearly the driver seemed to know him like he knew her. Edward couldn't help but wonder if he would see his alter-self again. Wouldn't that be fun? But why was he thinking of having fun and alter selves? There was a hole in his shoulder and his stomach wanted food and the itchy, wool blanket the doctor who was Auntie Sara but wasn't Auntie Sara had put on him was making it hard to breathe. That and the position of his head and neck. But Edward had little to no control over his body at the moment, so there wasn't much he could do, was there?

Thinking about weird, off topic things just seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.

Hughes jolted around a bit, and Edward heard himself moan in protest, then cuss. He hoped that he was unintelligible enough that anyone in the home wouldn't understand what he had just said; what a horrible first impression for the people who were helping him.

By now Edward was so slouched over in the officer's arms that it was near impossible to breathe. He heard the doctor/Auntie Sara directing Hughes, and then felt a soft bed beneath him. The wool blanket was removed, and some light sheets were put over him instead. Edward melted into the soft mattress and downy pillow, relieved to be out of that uncomfortable position. He supposed gaining control his body would be a good plan, even though he could feel his conscious trying to fade into sleep. Fighting sleep was always bad (in situations that were not of the life or death sort), but not knowing your surroundings was worse, according to Edward.

He focused on irregular breathing; one shallow breath, two deep ones. Finally he managed to crack an eye open, wiggle his fingers, and arch his back to get rid of those nasty kinks that being carried around awkwardly caused.

Edward felt someone grab his metal shoulder and give it a shake in exactly the wrong way. Pressing the pressure system inwards would cause his arm to automatically flex and snap outward. The whole system was simple hydraulics; if a certain amount of pressure was put on a certain place then a small pump would suck in air the second the pressure lessened, and it would fill up other pumps that powered the motor which would make it snap. It was just for safety; all of the nerve connections happened to be right at the base of his shoulder, too much pressure would cause a spasm or even a seizure if hit in the right spot. Winry had insisted that she install the little system into Edward's automail, (In other words that meant Edward had no choice but to get it.) and he was reluctant to say that it had saved him once or twice in the past.

He felt his body jerk hard in the direction his arm decided to drag him. Edward opened his eyes to find Hughes staring worriedly at him, clutching his glasses and running a hand through his hair, and Dr./Aunt Sara with a syringe that was pointed at him. He sat up, deciding to wait a moment to let them calm down before explaining what had happened. To pass time Edward made sure that needle didn't come within a five foot radius of his flesh.

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><p>Carrying the boy had been hard enough, watching him gasp for breath and thrash around while Hughes felt utterly useless was perhaps the most difficult thing the officer had ever done.<p>

Edward had been slipping out of Hughes's grasp since he walked in the door. The boy weighed more than twice a normal person's wait, of that Hughes was convinced. Because Edward was slipping, the poor boy was slouching so badly that his breathing was cut short. Luckily the room that Sara kept patients in was right around the corner; Hughes wasted no time getting him inside.

After that Edward had seemed fine, his vitals after Hughes had hastily laid him in the bed Sara had ready were good for someone who had lost so much blood. The boy sighed and took a good, deep breath the second his body was level and straight. For a few minutes he had laid in the bed, breathing steadily and looking peaceful. But his breath suddenly started coming in strange; very shallow one minute and deep and labored the next. Hughes called Sara back into the room then, as she had left to get a hold of her husband, who was with some other patient.

Edward arched his back, his whole body stiffened up. Hughes wasn't sure what was wrong with the boy, so he took one of his shoulders and gave him a gentle shake, hoping to wake him.

The boy's reaction was not what Hughes or Sara had expected, and Hughes couldn't help but think that it had been done on pure instinct. Edward thrashed suddenly and lashed out at Hughes with his metal fist, missing him by only a hair. Sara, quick reflexes jumping to action, swiftly readied a syringe containing a good sedative and was about to give Edward a good poke in the thigh with it when the boy's thrashing stopped abruptly. He opened his eyes and sat up, gazing about the room before settling on the silver needle point of the syringe. He rose an eyebrow and looked just the slightest bit worried.

"You're not going to poke me with that, are you?"

"Are you going to behave?" Sara chose not to mention all of the boy's thrashing.

"I will if you don't poke me with that needle." Edward was eyeing it uneasily, looking more childlike than he had all day. What one little thing could do to a person's image, Hughes thought, snickering softly. Sara and Edward turned and looked at him.

"I think he's fine, Doctor." Hughes said. Sara glanced back at Edward once before putting the syringe on the table where she had her tools. Edward, already more comfortable, reached up with his left hand (carefully, as his shoulder was tender) and gave his metal shoulder a light rub, even though it probably didn't do a thing.

"You shook my arm funny, didn't you?" Ed looked over at Hughes, gold eyes blinking at him calmly. "Made it react by snapping. I didn't hit you, did I? Because it didn't feel like I hit something."

"Y-you were close." Hughes stuttered, surprised by the fact that the boy knew what was going on. "So, you were awake for that?"

"Kind of, it was more like my mind was awake but my body wasn't." Edward looked around the room lazily, eyeing random doctor's tools with distaste before moving on to glare at some other inanimate object.

"Oh." Hughes decided to drop the subject. He was just glad he didn't get smacked.

Edward decided that he was feeling more lightheaded than he preferred so he laid back down, enjoying the softness of the pillow and liking it much more than the hard seats of that automobile.

"Well," Sara said looking at Ed carefully. "you'll be staying here for a while... Edward." Talking to this boy was strange, she decided. The boy looked up at her, clearly not liking her proposal.

"I would rather not."

"You're hurt. Moving around would not be a good idea on your part." Sara stated. "And where else would you have to go?"

"Officer Hughes said I could stay with him." Edward was starting to feel drowsy again; what little energy being unconscious for a few minutes gave him was being quickly sucked away. Sara noticed his fading energy and gave him a gentle look.

"We'll figure it out later. Just rest for now." she said. Sara stood and pulled the sheets back over him. He glared up at her, fighting sleep more vigorously than before.

"Damn, Aunt Sara..." he mumbled, already more asleep. "always babying me." Awake was no longer a word in Edward Elric's vocabulary; he was out. Sara looked down at him, a surprised look on her face.

"He knew my first name." she said.

"And he called you aunt." Hughes added. "Guess that means he knows an alternate version of you, and you two are close enough for him to consider you an aunt. He seemed to know who I was too; the boy trusted me immediately."

Sara nodded absently, trying to come up with a more logical explanation for it.

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><p>Trisha was feeling more and more lightheaded by the minute. She saw that boy, (slipped past the room just as he sat up, luckily she wasn't noticed.) who was identical to her son <em>and<em> her husband. She was fallen over in the bathroom, trying desperately not to hyperventilate, to keep from fainting. She was certain she had only one baby, and that was Eduard. That boy couldn't be some apparition of her late husband, he was too young and his hair was a bit different than Philip's when he was a teenager. But the way he looked, and even acted, in the few moments that she saw him...that boy was and wasn't her son.

So who was he?

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><p><strong>Rushed ending is rushed. I just want this damned chapter out of my hair and onto the internet. Philip will be Hoenheim's first name in this story; I heard somewhere that it might have been part of some reaaallly long name that his name was based off of...but I don't feel like researching that right now.<strong>

**(I also decided that Trisha and Hoenheim-Philip will have a past of growing up together that is kind of like the Edward and Winry in Brotherhood.)**

**Anywho...sorry this chapter sucked. It was more of a filler than anything. I tried to keep Edward's physical state realistic, I realized about half way through that his being suddenly okie-dory didn't make any sense at all so I knocked him out again...realistically. And as for that little pressure system in his arm...I dunno, originally it was gonna be just pure instinct but then I remembered that Edward was currently suffering from some MABA and his body doing anything would be next to unlikely... So my brain spouted that little contraption.**

**Go Google MABA (Mind Awake Body Asleep) darlings. It's some interesting stuff.**

**(Trisha's thoughts are reminiscent of my own. Just more morbid.)**

**~Maddy**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello~ Sorry for not updating quite as regularly; ideas for _Kill Game_ and school and other nonsense (laziness, crossovers, etc.) keep on getting in the way. But come November I will be freed from my chains and will have more time to type and think and enjoy doing a good deal of nothing.**

**I'm afraid the Internet is insisting that I do not own FMA. As the Internet knows all I think I will heed it.**

**(Oh, overly descriptive paragraphs, how you fall out of my head like rocks.)**

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><p>Chapter Nine: Enter the Second Doctor<p>

Any sort of regular passerby would glance upon the fair man and believe that he was in desperate need of a vacation. Those assuming passerby would be nothing short of correct, as Urey Heiderich was very much in need of a vacation.

Urey was a calm man on most days. But a day like today, where everything managed to go wrong and this happened and that happened and nothing was in anything that could possibly be considered order, he became stressed and just a bit frazzled. Urey was also a man who could manage to make people believe that he was still as calm as ever, when in reality there was one hell of a storm tearing through his thoughts and the slightest slip up would send him into a mental fit of rage.

Outwardly the man had two particular emotions; content and neutral, the latter being the one show the most often, the first only showing when he was graced by the presence of his family. (He could also look very serious, which suited his doctorly demeanor nicely, but only when he was working with a patient with some sort of fatal wound or disease.) Only those who were the very closest to him could tell what real mood he might be in. And it wasn't the way he displayed his facial expressions, but his body language. Being stressed would result in messy hair and little eye contact; pride, tranquility, or just happiness would bring out a light in the man's eyes that was unmistakable. There would be the slightest raise of his eyebrows, an upturning of the corners of his mouth so minuscule it was almost unnoticeable, and his entire being would radiate with positive energy.

His wife said that his personality was what made him a good doctor, as he was a very influential man; his presence alone could sooth a wailing baby or relax even the most anxious of patients. The way the man unconsciously held himself said, "I will keep you safe." And it was true; losing patients was a rare occurrence for him.

But enough rambling about Urey Heiderich. There were places he needed to be and things that needed to be done. He had just received word that his wife was with _yet another_ patient. From what he had heard over the phone was that the boy she was treating was a bit of a special case, and most likely the cause of all the injuries he had nursed today. Men had black eyes and broken collarbones; footprints were on their faces and shoulders, Urey had no doubt that they would be brandishing some lovely bruises for the next few weeks or so...

...Not that Urey was complaining. He wasn't injured and it really wasn't his business anyway. He just treated his patients, mentally heaved a sigh of exasperation at the number of idiots dawning the exact same injury, and received a nice sum of money for his services.

The man was currently striding what was the town's main street, briefcase in one hand, jacket in the other. He took long, deliberate steps that forced people out of his way; practically the entire town knew who he was and nobody wanted to be in the way of a doctor on the job. Urey rounded a corner and came to the street his home was on. Sara's automobile was parked hastily on the curb, showing that she had been in a bit of a rush.

Urey made his way up the steps to his front door and opened it quietly, feeling more relaxed the second the warm air from inside caressed his face. He stepped inside and looked to his left up the stairs, which were directly off the door's opening. It sounded like all three of the kids where up there, trying and failing to not make a ruckus. Urey smiled to him self as he made his way straight down the hallway that led past the living room and kitchen, all the way back to where the small infirmary they had for treating patients was located. There was a door on his left which led into said infirmary, which he knocked lightly on before opening. Sara and Officer Hughes both looked quickly up at him as he entered.

"So what's all this about then?" he asked, eyes flicking between his wife, the officer, and the bed where his mysterious, trouble-causing patient was currently resting.

"We've got a boy here," Sara started, "who's got a bullet wound in his shoulder. I've patched him up now, but I need you to take a good look at him and fix it up." She nodded at Hughes, who stood and moved out of the way so Urey could see exactly who he was treating. The man felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Th-this is...!" Urey stuttered; he was so utterly floored he couldn't make any words form in his mouth. He was looking down at Eduard, his left shoulder bandaged up tight and his right full of metal plates. Long gold hair was laying across his pillow, looking messy and knotted.

"This is not Eduard." Sara said calmly, reaching to grab her husband's hand. "He's someone else, he's not...not from around here, you could say." Urey looked over at Sara, his sky blue eyes meeting her blue-gray ones.

"I can tell he's not Eduard, they're too different physically." Urey said after a moment. "So who is he then?"

"You could call him another version of Eduard." Hughes said. "He's got the general looks and personality, but he's obviously led a completely different life than our Eduard."

"And _how_ is he related to all of the people I've been treating today?" Urey looked incredulously at Hughes.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story, so I'll spare you the unnecessary details. Long story short, this boy here is the end result of some weird experiment by those guys from Munich working in our factory." Hughes explained quickly. "He beat up a bunch of the guys and escaped, then I found him and some of those guys who didn't get hurt found _us_ and shot him."

"'Those guys' being members of that cult-ish Thule Society thing, right?" Urey asked.

"Yep. Those are the ones." Hughes confirmed. Urey scowled.

"I shouldn't have treated them." He glowered at the sleeping boy who had made his day a very tiring one. The only person he had treated today who hadn't been injured by this boy, the only person he was _supposed_ to treat today, was the twelve year old girl down the way who was sick in bed with a cold. He had been on his way back home when some very breathless men dragged him off to the factory, begging him to help out their co-workers. Urey obliged, which resulted in a very long, tiring day. They were a picky bunch, making it hard for Urey to not hate them, but now, as he learned that they not only involved a child in their weird experiments but also shot said child, he wasn't going to try to hide his utter dislike for them. Urey was just too damn tired. Sara laughed at his apparent grumpiness while Hughes quietly spectated; it was interesting, seeing a well respected man like Urey Heiderich lose face like that.

"Either way," Sara said, a small smile gracing her lips, "they're not important right now, but he his." She motioned to Eduard's sleeping double.

"What's his name?" Urey asked as he pulled the back the sheets covering the boy. The boy let out a soft, sleepy moan of protest, not appreciating the warm blankets being removed from his body.

"He said his name is Edward Elric." Sara informed Urey. "Officer Hughes and I have been calling him Ed."

"Ed, huh? Well Ed, I've had a rough day because of you." Urey gave a lock the boy's bangs a gentle tug; it was is own roundabout way of revenge. Ed stayed still and sleeping, oblivious to the doctor's harassment.

"Will you grab me some scissors, Sara?" Urey said suddenly, deciding that inflicting his revenge upon sleeping, wounded children was not a very moral thing to do. Sara nodded and grabbed a pair of scissors while Urey moved to the left side of the bed for a better look.

"Might want some painkillers and sedatives for him too." Urey mused. "I doubt he'd be pleased if he wakes up in the middle of my examination and restitching of his wound."

Once Ed had a good shot of anesthetics and sedatives in his system and Urey had some scissors, he carefully cut away the bandages wrapped around Ed's shoulder; the lower layers were soaked with blood. Urey gazed expertly at the hasty stitching his wife had used to close the wound. He cut those too. Sara already had some thread and a needle (of the medical sort) ready and waiting for him to re-suture the wound.

Urey took time carefully examining the hole, going over the boy's muscles and bones, making sure that there would be no permanent damage or complications. The process took a good while, but finally Urey had neatly stitched up the wound so that there would be no more bleeding, so long as Ed held still like a good child until his shoulder healed up. Sara and Urey cleaned Edward up while Hughes stood by the doorway, making sure no one came to disturb them.

By the time everything was said and done, the sun was only just reaching over the buildings of the small town. Hughes stretched his arms above his head and sighed.

"Well, I had better be getting back." He said. "I'll have a lot of explaining to do as to why I've been missing for the better part of the day." Hughes laughed meekly; this whole ordeal would not look good to his boss. And after that he could go home and clean the bloody floors of his apartment. Oh, what fun.

"You didn't have to stay so long." Sara said, giving Hughes a sympathetic look.

"I wanted to make sure the kid was okay. None of this was his fault, it wouldn't be very fair to him." Hughes replied. Sara gave him a smile.

"Well, do what you need then." she said. "And come back anytime, okay? We might need some help keeping tabs on our trouble-maker." Hughes laughed and nodded.

"Will do." He gave her a short wave and headed towards the door. Once outside the officer heaved a sigh and wondered what was going to happen next.

* * *

><p>"Sounds like he left." Heide said, leaning heavily against the door. Eduard raised an eyebrow at her and Alfonse looked exasperated; another fight was brewing, he could tell.<p>

"You can just open the door and look you know." Eduard said. It was a provocative statement that rendered Alfonse correct.

"Well what if I don't want Officer Hughes to see me?" Heide snapped. She enjoyed the fact that she could rightly perform what was only done in the mystery novels she read; a scene where the leading man would lean against a door to suspiciously eavesdrop on unsuspecting officers appeared at least once in every one. Heide refused to pass up the chance.

"I guess that makes sense." Eduard looked thoughtful.

"It does?" Heide was a bit surprised by Eduard's response.

"Well yeah, with your looks I'm surprised anyone wants to see you." He gave her a wide, evil grin that only grew wider and even more evil as Heide's face turned beat red with anger.

"You're a bloody JERK, do you know that?" When 'jerk' left Heide's lips, her foot collided with Eduard's shin.

Alfonse decided to leave them alone. He knew there was nothing that could be done about their bickering, and quite frankly he was almost glad for it. In her own weird, unorthodox way, Heide was helping Eduard to cope with the day's ordeals. All three of them had a feeling that they were going to see Eduard's double again whether they liked it or not, so Heide did the only thing she could do, and that was fight with Eduard. It was like a distraction, a deviation from all the rough times that were undoubtedly ahead of them. People naturally draw comfort from anything that is normal, some sort of occurrence that happens on a daily basis for a person to lean or depend on.

The fact that Eduard started the fight this time was a good sign. His friend was a bit of a spit-fire who always managed to bounce back, of that Alfonse knew best. He just hoped it would last.

Alfonse stood and walked quietly in between his best friend and his sister. As good as fighting was (how very ironic, he thought) the youngest of the trio was becoming sick and tired of it. Eduard and Heide paused, both looking at Alfonse with worried expressions.

"Where're you going?" Eduard asked.

"Away from you two." Alfonse said. "I want to see how Mom and Dad are doing." He walked slowly and meaningfully towards the door.

"So you guys can just continue your fight..." He reached for the door knob.

"...alone..." It turned slowly in his fingers.

"...together." Alfonse gave the two blondes one very nasty smirk before bolting for his life down the stairs, the wooden door slowly closing in his wake.

Eduard looked at Heide. Heide looked at Eduard. Both wore an expression of embarrassment and anger. Heide glowered at the floor, not really knowing what else to do. Eduard just heaved a sigh and flopped onto his bed.

"Aren't you gonna follow him?" Heide glanced up quickly at her crush. Eduard lifted his head, as he was sprawled out on his back, and gave her a funny look.

"And why on earth would I want to go see a couple of doctors poke around at the insides of some unconscious person?" At that Eduard let his head drop back onto the bed.

"I doubt they're doing that." Heide mumbled.

"You never know." Eduard retorted. Heide couldn't come up with anything to say back. It was true; when it came to anything medical, anything and everything could happen. She thought desperately for something to say. The longer she waited the harder it would be to say anything.

"So...um, what was it like?" Heide slapped herself mentally.

"What was what like?" Eduard sat up and glared at her, not liking her incomplete question.

"You know, seeing that other version of you." Heide said quickly. She hated how shy she got when they were alone. With Alfonse around she could yell and scream and say what she wanted. But without him...she might as well stitch her mouth shut.

Eduard seemed to ponder Heide's question. In all truth and honesty, the idea that there was another version of himself running around out there was kinda cool. The circumstances were what made him feel sick though. He suddenly wondered what would happen if his mother saw his other self and felt even more sick.

There would simply be no way Trisha would be able to handle it. Ever since his father died she seemed off, somehow. She was always lost in her thoughts, even when she was holding a conversation with someone or crossing the street. In fact, just the other day Eduard had to grab her in order to stop her from crossing the road; if she had kept going, she would have been hit by a speeding car.

"I wish it never happened." He decided. "Those Thule freaks shouldn't have come here, and non of this should be happening." Eduard had always enjoyed working at the factory; admiring rockets, learning new things from some of the more friendly scientists...It all changed when the Thule Society took over their town. Everything became nothing but secrets and lies. And now this.

Heide felt more lost now than before. This whole conversation had gone from bad to worse. She sat down on the other bed and looked at her feet.

"Sorry for asking." she mumbled. Heide always hated apologizing, it made her sound like she was giving up the fight. But this time an apology was in order. Eduard blinked at her in surprise.

"N-no, it's not your fault!" He said quickly; crying girls were bad, very bad. Heide heaved a shaky sigh and looked up at Eduard. He looked down at her, an upset expression on his face.

"It's my fault!" He insisted, anything to prevent the girl from crying. "I shouldn't be acting so depressed, so..."

Eduard trailed off and looked away, not really knowing what else to say.

"It was a silly question." Heide said.

"I guess..." Eduard agreed. Agreeing with girls generally made them feel better, right?

"You're not supposed to agree!" Heide leaned over and gave Eduard a light smack on the knee. "You're supposed to tell me that everything's alright and that it wasn't a silly question." She glared at Eduard, who had scooted back on his bed so that he was leaning against the wall, legs drawn up and out of reach of the angry girl.

"Sheesh sorry." Eduard rolled his eyes; it was a silly question in his opinion. This girl read way to many romantic novels; like he would know how to do all of that previously mentioned nonsense.

Heide grumbled to herself and sat back, thinking of something else to say that wouldn't turn into a fight.

She was failing.

"Lets go downstairs." she decided.

"I thought we didn't want to go." Eduard said.

"Well we've got nothing else to do, right?" Heide asked. She had a point; they only managed to fight with one another, which wasn't very productive.

"I guess." Eduard shrugged and stood up, going for the door. Heide stood as well and followed closely behind him. She looked down longingly at the boy's hand; it was so close she could slip her hand into his without stretching her arm at all. She refrained from doing anything, of course. Eduard would just give her a funny look and pull his hand away.

Eduard stopped so suddenly on the staircase that Heide ran into him, almost causing them both to fall down the remaining stairs. Heide was about to yell at him for being so abrupt, but then she noticed why he stopped.

Trisha was lying at the bottom of the steps, barely conscious.

"Mom?" Eduard ran down the stairs, leaving Heide where she stood. He crouched down next to Trisha, and lifted her slightly. Her breathing was shallow and labored, and her was skin clammy.

"Eduard...that boy..." she murmured, eyelashes fluttering. "I've only had you though, haven't I?" She was ice cold and pale, aside from the unhealthy looking red blotches on her cheeks.

"W-what boy?" Eduard asked, pulling her closer.

"He looks just like your father...only..." Trisha trailed off, her head drooping onto Eduard's shoulder.

"Only what? Heide, go get your parents!" Eduard turned and looked at the frozen girl desperately. She nodded and rushed past them.

"...Philip..." Trisha all but breathed out her late husband's name before fainting completely. Eduard clutched his mother tightly and looked down at her pale face.

"M-Mom? Wake up. H-hey, it's gonna be okay, so just wake up!" Eduard looked at the front door desperately, willing help to come rushing through it. What should he do? He could hear Sara and Urey rushing down the hallway, Alfonse and Heide close behind.

He could feel his mother being taken from his arms, which went limp at his sides. Alfonse was crouched next to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning Eduard so that he was facing him. Heide was standing uncertainly behind them.

"Eduard, they've got your mom, she'll be okay." Alfonse said. "She's strong, so..." Eduard gazed at Alfonse unblinkingly.

"'Fons... Who are your parents treating right now?" he asked. Alfonse blinked; clearly they were treating his mother. Why would he ask a question like that? Unless...

"...They've got that boy...The one who looks like you." Alfonse said, realizing where Eduard was going with this.

"I think Mom saw him."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh dear. That was a bit unexpected, wasn't it? I'm sorry I'm so terrible with cliffhangers. But they're so much fun~<strong>

**Anywho, reviews filled with ideas are appreciated; some darlings wanted some Eduard/Heide so I threw a bit in there, even though I'm clearly terrible at writing awkward situations filled with UST and all that lovely stuff. Oh well. Learn as you go, right?**

**~Maddy**

**P.S. I've almost got 4,000 words in this chappie! I'm getting better! w00t!1!1one!1!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Me no own.**

**Sorry for the wait everyone; I am a lazy bitch and have no legitimate excuse.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 10: In which there is a Miserable Colonel and General Confusion<p>

For the umpteenth time, Roy Mustang ran a gloved hand through his now messy, jet black hair. There were papers scattered about in front of him, more than usual, and they littered every flat surface that resided in his office. For the reader's insight as to what was on said papers, and how so many of them had piled up so quickly and managed to travel to the opposite side of the room, here is an explanation:

The furthermost documents scattered on the floor, reaching as far as the mahogany doors that led into the Colonel's personal office, were documents that did _not_ have to do with the disappearance of Amestris's youngest State Alchemist and were also the oldest. The further away a document was, the lesser of its importance. This of course is theoretically speaking, as Mustang simply took the entire stack of unsigned papers that did not have to do with his subordinate's disappearance and chucked them mercilessly across the room only moments before. Thereafter, he plopped back down into his leather chair, ran a hand through his hair, and heaved an annoyed sigh.

Roy opened his eyes, which he had closed in an attempt to ward off the migraine inducing lights, and stared at the fine wood that made up his desk. In its sleek luster he saw his own pallid, tired face and his slanted eyes gazing back up at him. The fine grains of the expensive wood curved and looped gracefully across the desk's surface; a mockingly beautiful piece of craftsmanship that did not fit very well with the current circumstances.

Roy Mustang was a man of fire; a man who did not sit at his desk and do nothing while the name of one of his men was on the Missing Persons list.

The desk sat diligently in front of the exhausted man, unaware of his asinine stares. Roy eyed the desk approvingly. It was a good desk. A good, pretty desk. Good material for burning, a nice, solid object for him to smack his head onto. Yes, if the loyalty of a dog ever failed, then a good, handcrafted desk was the perfect backup plan.

But now we're getting off topic.

"Sir." his First Lieutenant had watched the scene unfold with mildly unconcealed distaste. The man she would at times consider more of her charge instead of commanding officer had been staring blankly at his desk for a good three minutes now. Sure, he could be a bit of a slack-off at times, but that did not give him permission to haphazardly toss important files across his room. She supposed she couldn't blame him though; this whole ordeal was tough on everyone.

"Ah, those papers..." the Colonel murmured, "I suppose they'll get stepped on if I leave them there." He stared blankly at the mess he made, lifting his head only slightly from the God-awful slouch he was positioned in.

"Yes, they probably will." Riza Hawkeye agreed with Mustang's statement readily. Her charge was an observant one.

"I guess I'll go pick them up." He muttered, standing slowly.

"It would do you good to put them back in order as well, Sir." Riza's hand was neatly rested on her holster, head bowed slightly in it's direction, eyes closed calmly.

"...Right." Mustang eyed the far-too-calm-to-actually-be-calm woman before he began picking up the disturbed documents.

"Very good, Sir. Once you've got them all together I'll help you sort them." the First Lieutenant said.

"That's very kind of you, Lieutenant." Roy replied as he plucked a slip of paper from the carpet. He flipped the document over, locating a date, then placed it in between a few of the other documents he held. Nothing wrong with getting a bit of a head start, he figured.

After a few minutes of the man sitting on the floor collecting papers while the woman stood watching him threateningly, there was a sharp knock on the door. Roy paused, debating whether or not it would be worth the trouble for him to stand up and look like he was most certainly _not_ sitting on the ground collecting documents he childishly disrupted in a fit of frustration. He decided that it wasn't worth it and instead settled for with a very nonchalant look that said, "I do this because I want to, because I'm that _awesome _and _chivalrous._"

This was Roy Mustang _the Flame __Alchemist, _who was _notorious_ for doing odd things when paperwork was due. Nobody would question it.

"Come in." he called. Riza rose her eyebrows, though her face remained calm. Roy leaned back on the hand that wasn't holding documents, then he held up said documents in front of his face, pretending to read them.

"Ah, sir?" Warrant Officer Falman walked into the room, stepping daintily over some semi-important looking documents.

"Can I help you with something, Falman? As you can see I'm rather busy." the Colonel glanced up at the confused officer over his collected documents, looking very nonchalant and a little bit annoyed. Falman jumped in surprise before clicking his heals together, hands firmly at his sides, eyes (or not-eyes, slits that ought to be eyes, whatever, it's Falman.) staring directly ahead.

"Pardon my interruption Sir; I have information on the disappearance of Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist." Falman almost-shouted. Roy prompted him to continue, standing up and stretching as he did so.

"According to the information we've gathered from the interrogation of the rouge alchemists related to the Major's disappearance, it seems that they were trying to create some kind of portal into an alternate universe." Mustang rose an eyebrow.

"Eye-witness reports claim that the major was standing on their main circle when it was activated accidentally by a child that was helping the Elrics with the investigation at the time."

"The main circle, insinuating that there was more than one, yes?" Riza asked.

"Affirmative."

"And this child?"

"He's currently being held in the town where the rogue alchemists had their base to be questioned later."

"What about all of this alternate universe crap?" Mustang tried not to glare at Falman, the poor man wasn't at fault here.

"Many of the rouge alchemists were also scientists, Sir. Their leader was once a professor at Central Collage, teaching quantum physics. He came up with the idea of an alternate universe and chose to use alchemy as the base science for the experimentation of his hypothesis. If you would like to look at his bio, I have it here." Falman held out an envelope that Mustang hadn't noticed before, offering it to him. Mustang took it and glanced at it's contents.

"The hell is string theory?" he asked.

"In the most basic, most alchemic of terms, it is the hypothetical cause of equivalent exchange."

"You mean the law of conservation of matter?" Mustang looked up at Falman, genuinely confused.

"No, Sir. It's more like, ah, the basis for that. It means that everything is affected by everything; general relativity, you know?" Falman was a human dictionary, but dictionaries tend to have a bad way of explaining things.

"...No. I really don't." Mustang deadpanned.

"Well it doesn't really matter anyway." Falman waved it off, not wanting to confuse his commanding officer further. "It just has to do with quantum physics, which as to do with the ex-professor, which has to do with Ed's disappearance."

"...Okay then." Mustang felt the migraine coming back. "In any case, I'd like to go see this base of their's as well as meet that kid you mentioned earlier."

"Right. I'll go get the necessary paperwork." Falman said, turning to leave.

Mustang groaned.

* * *

><p>It was definitely an old town. With it's oldness came a sad truth; it was a borderline ghost town.<p>

It was the perfect place for a bunch of rouges to set up their base and cause a ruckus without anyone knowing.

Its name was Fairwich.

Fairwich, Mustang decided, was a horrible dump that ought to be burned to the ground and then burned again, for good measure.

He and Hawkeye alighted from the automobile they took from the train station (it was in the next town over), and studied their surroundings, deciding what ought to be done to get the disgusting place off of the map. (If there was even an up-to-date map with this place on it.)

The town was located in the west. Not in any kind of central west, but even farther, in a sort of Southwest direction. It was nestled down by the borderline between Amestris and Creta, past all of the rolling hills and into the large pine forests, which eventually turned into an ugly, massive swamp. Fairwich was settled somewhere in between the pine forest and swamp, sitting on a piece of cleared, flat land. Mustang decided that the first homesteaders of darling little Fairwich situated it perfectly so that the wind would blow in the gases from the swamp year around.

There was one dirt road that led through the town that was probably supposed to be the 'main street'. On either side of this wide, pothole-cluttered road there were maybe three or four little shacks that where probably supposed to be a grocery store, a bakery, a mechanic's workshop, a clothing store, the mayor's house, etc... In total Mustang counted seven standing buildings (though they were all sagging horribly from lack of care and soggy wood) and three toppled ones. Not one building, grounded or standing, was without some kind of mold or moss growing all over it. The entire area wreaked of decaying wood and overgrown vegetation.

"...I've changed my mind." Mustang muttered, feeling disgusted.

"About what, Sir?" Hawkeye asked in a hushed tone; it simply didn't feel right at all to speak with more than a whisper in such a run down, sad looking place.

"If I burn it, the smell will be terrible. So I've decided that I'll flatten it, then bury it." Mustang nodded to himself approvingly. The plan was fool proof.

"Ah, I see Sir. But perhaps you should wait with your destructive plans until later." Riza nodded sharply to an older man who was walking in their direction.

Like the old, saggy shacks of Fairwich, this man was wrinkled, bent over, and all around looked like he had seen better days.

"You two the ones wan'in a look 'round?" the old man asked, scratching at his scraggly, grey-brown beard.

"Yes, we were." Mustang said, giving the rickety old man a quick nod. "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang, and this is First Lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye. We were hoping we would be able to see the child that's being kept here, as well as the hideout of the rouge alchemists that were causing a ruckus here."

The old man nodded and turned.

"The brat's all holed up in that jail cell over yonder." he pointed an gnarled finger in the direction of a particularly shoddy looking shack. "Kid wont say nothing though. Don't eat much neither. Maybe some trimmed up folks like you and ya' lady can slap some sense into 'im."

Riza rose an eyebrow at being called 'Mustang's lady' but said nothing. Roy was fighting back a smirk.

The two followed the old man to the little shack, and stepped as lightly as humanly possible onto the first of the two steps that led to the door, which was all but falling off it's hinges. The rotting wood let out a soft groan of protest as it was stepped on. The old man opened the door, which miraculously stayed attached to it's designated wall, and gestured for Roy and Riza to enter first.

The inside looked no better than the outside. There was a desk (not like Mustang's desk, no, this one was about to fall apart) against the right most wall which stretched almost to the opposite wall, leaving only about a foot and a half of space for a person to walk through. Behind the desk where the bars of the single jail cell that the little prison had. The bars were rusting, full of moss, and looked like nothing more than a soft poke would knock them over. The whole room had an aura of green to it; a sickly, grimy green.

A boy was sitting cross-legged behind the bars. He had a coin in his hands, which he continuously turned over in his grubby fingers.

"Hey brat, got some folks from the big city 'ere with me."

The boy said nothing.

"They wants to talk to yah, so you better open up that trap o' yer's and say sum'im 'fore I come over there an' beat the words outta yah." For a rickety old man, he was scary.

"..."

"Well, little mister? Or are you deaf an' dumb?"

"Nome. I ain't dumb." the boy muttered, glaring up at the old man through his greasy copper colored bangs.

"So he speaks." Roy murmured. The boy glared at him to.

"Don't make fun ah' me. I ain't dumb. Not deaf neither." Riza nodded wisely, agreeing with him.

"Of course not. We're not making fun of you, either." she said. The kid eyed Riza suspiciously.

"Who's you?" he asked.

"I'm Riza Hawkeye, and this is Roy Mustang." she replied, motioning to herself and then Mustang as she did so. The boy nodded slowly. "Who are you?"

"Name's Colt." the boy, now Colt, said. The old man, who had been watching their little exchange twitched slightly before smacking the bars of the cell with the old wooden cane he was holding.

"That ain't 'chyer name, _brat._" he hooted.

"Yes-huh! My momma gamme that name when I was borned. Nuthin you can say 'bout that!" the boy hollered back.

"Hoo-boy kid," the old man whooped, "sure talking lots now tha' we got yer poor mother intah the conversation, now eh?"

The two of them continued to yell at one another for a few minutes, and during that time, the rather irked military agents learned that the old man went by the name of Mud, though they really weren't sure why, and that the boy lived in the town that they had arrived in by train.

"Lieutenant, if you will?" Mustang asked, glancing at her. The woman nodded grimly and pulled out her hand gun.

BANG! It echoed, reverberating off the iron bars, making them ring. A flock of birds squawked madly far off in the distance, and the chorus of chirping and buzzing that had been droning mindlessly on since their arrival hushed suddenly.

Riza stood quietly, gun aimed out the door at an angle, so not to hit anyone that might be wandering around outside. Roy stood next to her, ears plugged unceremoniously with his fingers, with a look on his face that said "This happens often."

"Has everyone quieted down?" Riza asked. Everyone was quiet. "Right then." She nodded to Mustang, who unplugged his ears.

"As fun as it is to listen to you to scream till you're blue, we have a job to do, and would like to do it." Roy said seriously. Mud looked from Roy to Riza then back again before hobbling over to Mustang and grabbing his arm.

"Can I get a word wit'cha, Colonel?" the man asked. Roy was a bit insulted when Mud pronounced his rank as Colly-nel, but nodded and followed the man known as Mud outside. Riza glanced at him and he shrugged helplessly.

Once outside, Mud turned around and glared up at Mustang.

"What in blazes are you doin' letten a woman carry 'round som'im like _that?_" he hissed.

"Uh, what do you mean?" Roy asked, not really sure what Mud was getting at.

"That there woman had a _handy-gun_. Ladies don't carry little handies with 'em!" Mud waved his cane around angrily. "She might try tah shoot yah down when you ain't lookin, boy! Ladies like that un are dangerous; don't you know _nuthin_?"

"Apparently not." Mustang said irritably.

"Well shoot, boy." Mud sighed. "Yer a lost cause, you are." Mustang was about to retort back with something witty and insulting about Mud's lack of knowledge in hygiene and grammar when Riza called over to them from the little stoop of the jail/shack.

"Are you two almost finished?" She asked, hand hovering close to her pistol.

"Yes ma'am we was! Me an' Ponyboy here was just wrappin' up, ain't we?" Mud gave a Roy a nudge in the ribs. Roy gaped and found his voice.

"Ponyboy!" he shouted, abashed.

"Well that's yer name, ain't it?" Mud glanced at Roy over his scrawny shoulder.

"NO."

Mud just shrugged and hobbled back over to the jail/shack, smiling a toothy grin at Riza as he did so.

"What was all that about?" Riza asked softly as Roy walked past her, back into the shack.

"Nothing." He sighed. "Just...nothing." Riza gave him a confused look, but didn't pry. She heard the 'Ponyboy' nonsense, and figured that she didn't really want to know what else they were talking about.

She looked into the shack, where Roy was now fighting with Mud over the keys to the cell. Colt was watching them anxiously. If the keys were lost it wouldn't be that big of a deal, Riza knew. She could just shoot off the lock or even just pry the bars out of place. Though the bars were iron, they were so old even a scrawny boy like Colt probably wouldn't have trouble with it.

But fight Roy and Mud did, so worry did Colt.

Riza sighed, knowing that this would take a while if there was no intervention. She really hated wasting bullets, but she preferred to not raise her voice.

* * *

><p><strong>Uh...Hi. So I'm not dead...and stuff. Here's a chapter for you. I'll be crawling back into my coffin now.<strong>


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